


Once upon a memory

by Star_Wanderer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Season/Series 06, also posted on fanfiction.net, pre-series flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27940277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Wanderer/pseuds/Star_Wanderer
Summary: Sam and Dean head to a small town near the woods when children start disappearing. The Hunt will soon open a door into their pasts. Very small cannon divergence as it assumes Dean told Sam about his stay at Sonny's long before the Bad Boys episode.
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_“Come away, oh human child_

_To the waters and the wild_

_With a fairy hand in hand_

_For the world’s more full of weeping than ye can understand.”_

_W.B. Yeats – Stolen Child_

Kelsey Blackstone was an unhappy child. Everyone could tell that. People in town saw it as a fact of life. Small towns were like that, they had their own facts to cling to. Judge Moore’s personal assistant was actually his secret daughter. Lisa from the corner store collected cats like some people collected stamps. And doctor Blackstone’s twelve-year-old Kelsey was the most sullen child in town.

Then Kelsey Blackstone disappeared. She went to bed one night and, the next morning, when the doctor went to wake her up for school, he found the window open and no Kelsey. He went to the sheriff station that evening – and tongues would forever be wagging as to why he had waited that long; when a father discovered his twelve year old missing, he went to the police immediately, he did not wait around – and gave them some story about hearing flute music the previous night and something that sounded very much like footsteps on the stairs – in retrospect, Kelsey sneaking out of the house. No, he had not gone to check. He had been half-asleep by then.

Two weeks after the disappearance, the postman said the pharmacist told him that her daughter – Kelsey’s best friend – had known Kelsey would leave. That she had been talking for a month about this person who had come from the woods one day and had been interested in her drawings much more than her father and stepmother had been. That this figure had said he would take her somewhere. It was surprising, though. Like all children in town, Kelsey knew everything about stranger danger and the like. She would not have gone with some random drifter she had never seen before. The town was baffled about that.

And then, the day Kelsey was found – or, at least, when the thing that was supposed to be Kelsey came back to town – some of the people dared to voice out loud what most of them thought about but kept hidden, afraid of it being true. This was not the first time it had happened.

xxxxXXXXXXxxxxx

Sam stepped into Bobby’s library, not surprised to find Dean already there, engrossed in his coffee and breakfast. Sam went to make his own coffee and looked warily at the pie on the kitchen table. Bobby often got those kinds of gifts from neighbors. Sometimes it was hopeful widows thinking Bobby might have an eye for them. At other times, it was a thank you for a hunt well done and a person saved. More often than any of them wanted, it was someone with a grudge sending Bobby poisoned pie – or, on one memorable occasion they had all agreed never to mention – cursed pie. Sam wondered if this was not one of those memorable occasions. But Dean looked to be on his third slice already and did not seem about to drop dead, so Sam figured a small slice was safe. He did not often go for things like pie, preferring a healthy breakfast, but there weren’t many options for that at Bobby’s. Pie would have to do.

Sam took his food and coffee to the library and sat down opposite Dean. He sensed his brother’s eyes on him, even though Dean was trying to be subtle. Sam cleared his throat.

“Where’s Bobby?” he asked.

“Gone to see a Hunter friend of his in the hospital,” Dean said. “He called me from there, he might have something for us, and he’ll fill us in when he gets back in an hour or so. You up for a case?”

Sam nodded quickly. In truth, he was starting to get cabin fever. Not to mention that Bobby was still wary of him sometimes, acting as if Sam was a bomb that could explode at any moment. Sam, on the other hand, was busy doing penance for what he had done to Bobby while soulless – to the point that he had even offered to do Bobby’s grocery runs several times. Dean was getting exasperated. Sam was sure his brother was about to knock his and Bobby’s heads together just to teach them sone sense.

“So,” Dean went on and his would-be casual tone had Sam immediately on alert. “Last night. I heard you. Nightmares, right? What were they about?”

Sam shrugged, avoiding his brother’s assessing gaze.

“I mean – with our kind of job, nightmares are normal, you know?”

He did not need to look at Dean to know his face was full of exasperation.

“I didn’t ask you if it was normal, Sam. I asked what it was about.”

Sam sighed. He thought he had gotten better at resisting Dean’s inquiries. Apparently, his re-souling seemed to have lowered his defenses when it came to his brother. He scratched the back of his neck.

“It was the night I set Lucifer free. The church. I was dreaming about…that.”

He chanced a glance at Dean, then his eyes flitted to the ground again. His brother’s face was closed-off.

“Sam, that’s the past,” Dean said at length. “You don’t dwell on the past. You stuff it in a box labelled “useless crap” and move on.”

Sam was about to make a quip regarding unhealthy coping mechanisms, when he heard the front door opening, followed by Bobby’s heavy footsteps.

“Hey, Bobby,” Sam greeted, relieved to have a chance to change the subject. “Dean said you might have a case for us?”

Bobby nodded.

“Something about kids disappearing from a group of small towns,” he said. “Karl Greenberg told me about them. He’s gotten into some trouble on his last hunt and won’t be getting out of the hospital soon. But I said I’ll have someone take care of this case.”

“Karl Greenberg?” Sam repeated. “Name sounds vaguely familiar.”

“That’s because your father teamed up with him once. I think it was during that time you were supposed to stay at my place, remember, Sam?”

“Why are you asking him and not me?” Dean demanded, suspicion evident in his voice. “Where was I supposed to be?”

“According to your Daddy, _lost on a hunt_ ,” Bobby said, snorting to show he had never bought the excuse. “The Boys’ Home, wasn’t it?”

Sam glanced at Dean to see how he would react. It was not exactly a time they liked to talk about, Dean most of all. However, his brother seemed to be focused on one thing now.

“So, what was Dad doing taking Sam with him on a hunt with some random dude? I thought he was staying with you?”

Bobby snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Ask your brother. He had a case of itchy feet. Didn’t seem to like my place for some reason.”

Sam felt Dean’s sharp eyes on him. Right. He had never mentioned that detail to his brother.

“What the hell, Sam? You were twelve. Why were you thinking of running anyway? _Where_ were you thinking of running?”

Sam bit his lips.

“Look, man, you were gone,” he said at length. “And Dad wasn’t giving me any straight answer. Bobby wasn’t, either. They just kept saying you were lost on a hunt, which was damned suspicious, since the last time I’d seen you, you were going to grab something for dinner. Something had happened to you, and no one was telling me anything that mattered. So, yeah, I was running away. I was going to look for you.”

Sam noticed the emotions crossing Dean’s face – understanding, sadness, guilt. He looked away. In truth, he had not thought about that time in years. Instead, he had buried all of it away, because it had been difficult, suddenly navigating the world without Dean.

xxxxXXXXxxxxx

_Sam had been relegated to the back of the Impala, while John and Bobby were arguing outside. Sam huffed. The two had a knack of arguing with each other, but they had been going at it more frequently of late. Ever since John had showed up on Bobby’s doorstep with only Sam in tow._

_He shifted, feeling suddenly much too small in the big space of the car. He did not feel right, riding inside it without Dean. Gazing at his father, he wondered if that was what he was arguing with Bobby about. Maybe Sam trying to run away had finally done something good. Maybe Bobby was trying to convince John to go find Dean._

_Bobby and John were now close enough that Sam could catch the words. Sam tried to pretend he was not listening._

_“…and now you want to go where Greenberg points” Bobby was saying. “Greenberg’s one step away from full on psychopath and taking into account all the Hunters that have been in my house, that’s saying a lot.”_

_“Greenberg can help me,” John snapped, cutting Bobby off. “He said he thinks he knows of a death that was similar to what happened to Mary, of course I’m gonna help him with this case, if he’s going to reward me with valuable information…”_

_Sam fought hard to keep the scowl off his face. Of course, his father would care more about information on whatever had killed Mom. Sometimes, Sam was sure that was all their father cared about. It was as if all he had was the memory of his wife – as if he did not have children at all. As if one of his sons was not missing._

_A thought entered his mind, the same thought that came to him when he was about to fall asleep, that caused him to feel there was not enough air left in the room: what if Dean wasn’t missing? What if he was dead? What if his father and Bobby were thinking about the best way to tell Sam he had lost his brother for good?_

_Sam bowed his head and clenched his fists trying to hide how hard his hands had started to shake. Whenever the thought entered his mind, it took several breathless moments before he could convince himself it was not true. It couldn’t be true. If Dean was dead, Sam would have felt it. Somehow, he would have known. But his father had once said it did not work that way, and people could lose loved ones without realizing it had happened until someone came and broke the news to them. Sam dug his nails into his palms to distract himself from the breathless feeling that was threatening to overwhelm him._

_He did not look up when he heard the door to the driver’s side opening. He remained with his head down, even though he could feel his father’s eyes on him._

_“You’ve got no right to be cranky,” John said sharply. “I was willing to let you stay with Bobby. Not my fault you decided to go on a fieldtrip.”_

_“Are we going to find Dean?” Sam asked, even though he knew that was not where they were headed._

_“I have a Hunt,” John stated curtly. “Children are going missing.”_

_ Your own child is missing, too. _ _Sam did not say it, though. He knew how such arguments usually went._

_“Where’s Dean?” he asked instead._

_Sam was hoping that, if he kept asking the question over and over again, his father would one day be caught off guard and answer. Unfortunately, today was not that day._

_“Asking the same question at random intervals isn’t going to make me give you the answer anytime soon, Sammy,” John said, starting the car._

_Sam did not say anything else. His father’s answer confirmed something Sam had suspected all along. John knew where Dean was. Even if he was not telling Sam, he knew._

_The voice was back again, asking him, if Dean was alive, then why was John hiding it from Sam? Why wasn’t he going to get his son? Why had he spent two months without mentioning Dean even once?_

xxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxx

Sam shook himself out of his thoughts, returning to the present. He hoped Dean and Bobby hadn’t picked up his trip down memory lane.

“So, this case?” he asked Bobby. “You were saying something about kids?”

“In a group of small towns in Pennsylvania. They seem to center around a middle-of-nowhere town called Rattigan. That’s where John and Greenberg hunted a boogeyman. Remember?”

Sam shrugged.

“I mean, I remember leaving here. I don’t think I remember a town called Rattigan though. Why, do you think Dad didn’t catch the boogeyman?”

“No, I know he did. But Greenberg now thinks that only some of the kids had actually been taken by the boogeyman. There was something else there and it was taking children, too, using the boogeyman as his cover. Four children disappeared in the past two weeks. All apparently gone during the night. All good kids, too. Quiet, impressionable, but not the kind to just up and leave.”

“So, what makes you think this is our kind of weird and not just a run-of-the-mill backwoods pervert?” Dean wanted to know

Bobby’s face turned grim.

“Because one of the vanished kids, Kelsey Blackstone, came back two weeks after her disappearance. Or, at least, something claiming to be Kelsey did. See, Kelsey was twelve when she vanished. What came back was a woman that had to be over ninety. Of course, the police are saying it’s not her. Except that she knows everything Kelsey knows and has Kelsey’s speech patterns.”

Sam and Dean exchanged surprised looks.

“Has she said what happened to her?” Sam asked.

“Police are calling her delusional,” Booby replied, then scowled. “Of course, that could be because she’s claiming she’s a twelve year old or maybe trying to tell them what took her in the first place.”

“Well, she’s going to be the first person we talk to when we get there,” Dean decided.

His determination faltered when he saw Bobby shaking his head.

“You’ll need a Ouija Board for that. Kelsey – or whatever she was – died last night. Old age and exhaustion, apparently.”

Dean whistled.

“Well, that’s new. We should get going then. See what kind of crazy we’re dealing with.”

Sam got up. A hunt sounded good right now. It would keep him distracted from his nightmares and, hopefully, it would also keep _Dean_ distracted from his nightmares as well.

“I’ll go pack the car, then.”

He left Dean and Bobby to some very serious discussion about a burger joint that was close to Rattigan. Sam shook his head chuckling. Some things never changed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Stuck in the night_

_Ancient power will strike_

_Feel the fire_

_Burn inside_

_Run into my arms_

_Leave your shelter behind_

_Epica-Once upon a Nightmare_

Loretta Bracegirdle had once planned to get out of Rattigan and become a doctor in a big city, where the money would be good and the life her parents had carefully planned for her was far behind. But that had been before the handsome man who had promised to marry her and sweep her off to a better life had turned out to be already married with two kids. Two days after that discovery Loretta found out he had been using her to get her parents to sell the family hotel to him. Loretta had stayed put, and when her parents had died, she had taken over the hotel as an act of revenge she herself could not explain. For fifteen years, the place had been hers, and she had learned to recognize the most common types of guests that found their way – mostly by accident – to Rattigan.

There were the large game hunters, travelling in groups, boisterous and loud. They broke things in the rooms and got into trouble on their nights out, but they paid well, so Loretta never turned them away. There was the occasional misguided family thinking Rattigan could offer the typical town on the edge of the wilderness experience, only in their minds that experience did not include the bat accidentally getting in through the bathroom window or the postman’s dog barking at all hours. They usually left in a hurry and filled every single travel website with bad reviews. Not that Loretta ever cared for reviews. Then there were the runaways, teenagers trying to escape a bad situation, or young women fleeing a dangerous relationship. Loretta did what she could for them. She had contacts in other towns that could help. And, of course, there was the judge’s escapades with whoever was his flavor of the month.

The two young men that stood in front of the reception desk now were, however, not part of Loretta’s usual set of guests. She did not know how to place them and wondered what they were doing so far close to nowhere. The taller one was blinking slowly, as if he had just woken up, while the shorter one had that tense, on edge look of someone who had driven through the night. They both looked beat.

“You boys are in need of my best room,” she greeted. “Lucky for you, it’s free.”

The shorter one smiled tiredly.

“Just make it a room with two queens and we won’t be complaining.”

Loretta sniggered.

“Yeah, I never wanted to share a bed with my sister, either. She was the sweetest thing, but what she did with the blankets, God rest her soul. Her husband told me once he was thinking he would have to cut her hand completely, if he wanted to have at least a small part of the blanket for himself.”

“How did you know?” the taller one asked. “Usually, when people see me and Dean, they assume something else.”

Loretta rolled her eyes.

“Well, not everyone has owned a hotel for so long, like I did, sweetheart. You get to know people in my line of work.”

She handed them the key to her best room, making a mental note to send them some coffee and pie later.

“You boys go get some rest now. And watch yourselves when you go out. This town – sometimes it’s not safe.”

She noticed the eagerness in their faces.

“Oh?” Dean asked, trying to appear casual. “I thought this was a quiet, nothing ever happens place.”

Loretta hesitated. She did not want to discuss Kelsey Blackstone with a couple of strangers she had just met.

“Sometimes things are not what they seem,” she said. “This town has its dark spots, just like all places. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some invoices to go over. A hotel does not run itself, you know. Your room is up the stairs and at the end of the corridor. It’s quiet this time of year. You’ll like it.”

xxxXXXXXXxxxxx

The room was indeed worthy of being called “the best”. It was clean, with soft rugs and even an armchair close to the window. The beds were large enough, separated by two nightstands. The sheets were clean and there were even extra blankets in the cupboard. Not that it looked like they would need them this time. The heating system seemed to work fine.

Dean finished his quick shower and came out to find Sam at the desk, hunched over his laptop. Loretta had apparently brought them coffee and food.

“Didn’t she seem a bit cagey to you?” Dean asked as he dug into what was probably the best peach cobbler he had ever tasted.

Sam was sipping his coffee thoughtfully.

“Kids disappearing always leave people cagey. And she doesn’t know us, so, I suppose she’s justified.”

Dean grunted.

“So, what have you been looking at?” he asked, pointing to the laptop.

“Just researching the town. Rattigan was founded in the 1800. It was originally a town of German immigrants. I can’t find any conflicts with Native American tribes, though. The town was definitely not built on sacred ground, there were no battles here, nothing bloody. Maybe someone’s got some cursed object in their possession, but I’m not going to find that by looking at the town’s official site.”

“Maybe it’s another boogeyman,” Dean said, drawing another chair and sitting down close to Sam. “Man, I can’t believe you got to hunt one without me.”

Sam looked uneasy.

“I didn’t hunt a boogeyman. At least, I don’t remember there being any hunting. I was just here with dad.”

The more Sam said it, the more suspicious Dean got.

“It’s weird, you know? You remember the name of your second kindergarten teacher, but the boogeyman hunt you had without me is a blank for you.”

Sam pushed his chair away from the table. He scrubbed at his face tiredly.

“It wasn’t a good time, Dean,” he admitted. “While you were away. You know I was a little messed up, after.”

Dean nodded. He remembered that part well enough.

xxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxxx

_Their Dad had rented them a small motel room then headed off to back up Caleb on some hunt close by. He had not offered to take Dean with him, and it was clear that he had no intention of taking Sam._

_“I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on,” John had said before leaving._

_Dean did not know if that was Dad’s way of making it up to him for leaving him at the Boys’ Home so long, or if John had finally realized Dean could manage Sam much better than anyone else. Either way, it was just him and Sam now – and Dean wasn’t complaining._

_ Sam  _ _wasn’t complaining either. In fact, Sam wasn’t saying much of anything. When Dean had gotten into the car at Sonny’s, his brother had muttered a subdued “glad you’re back, Dean” and that was that. Dean had been expecting something different. The Sam of two months ago would have talked Dean’s ear off about all the things he had done, all the classes he had taken and kids he had met. But this Sam was silent and…not necessarily sullen, but a bit too moody for Dean’s liking._

_Dean said nothing for a while, ordering food with some of the money Dad left them, making sure he got Sam’s favorites for once. This earned him a small smile from Sam, but really, Dean had expected more. Sam had not seen him in two months. How come there wasn’t more enthusiasm now?_

_“So,” Dean asked after Sam had eaten and had made his way to the bed. “You were at Bobby’s, right?”_

_Sam’s head jerked once in what Dean assumed was approval._

_“A while, yeah,” he muttered._

_Dean nodded, feeling suddenly uncharacteristically awkward. He could not believe all it took was two months for him to lose his connection to Sam. He half debated going to bed and allowing Sam to sleep through whatever this was, when Sam finally spoke._

_“You weren’t on a hunt,” he said almost accusingly._

_Dean raised his eyebrows. What exactly had their father told Sam?_

_“No. I wasn’t.”_

_Since John had not briefed him on how much Sam knew, Dean had no idea how to handle the situation. One thing was certain, though. He had no intention of lying to Sam._

_“You weren’t lost, either,” Sam said._

_They weren’t exactly questions. It wasn’t a request for confirmation, either. Sam was just stating what he already knew._

_“I wasn’t,” Dean admitted. “Not really.”_

_He watched Sam’s face carefully, his alarm growing when he saw Sam’s lips starting to quiver._

_“And…did you want to be found?”_

_Dean’s heart broke. He had not really imagined how a kid Sam’s age would feel. A kid whose life was already so unstable, to have his one element of stability taken from him for two months. What was he going to think? That he would never see Dean again? That Dean didn’t want to see him? Well, screw that_

_“Sammy…” he began. “I wanted nothing more than to come back.”_

_Which was the truth, no matter how much he had appreciated Sonny and kind of got what the man had been trying to do. But Sonny had not known Dean, and while Dean had played along, worried that not doing so might lead to an even worse situation, he had been painfully aware that Sonny had misunderstood his situation. Maybe his lessons about responsibility worked on the other kids. But what more could anyone teach about responsibility to someone who had practically become a parent at the age of four? _

_“Promise?” Sam asked uncertainly._

_Without warning, he grabbed Dean’s hand. Dean frowned. True, it had been two months since he had been anywhere near Sam, but he did not remember the kid being that cold._

_“Are you sick?” he asked sharply, moving his fingers up and down Sam’s hand in an attempt to warm it._

_Sam shrugged._

_“Was,” he admitted reluctantly. “Not anymore. Dean, do you promise?”_

__

_Dean bit his lips. If Sam was not feeling well – which partly explained his strange mood – then he would need medicine and such. Dean was itching to start solving whatever the problem was, but Sam’s desperate question proved that he needed his doubts put to rest more. He dipped his head to look his brother in the eye._

_“Yeah, Sammy,” he said with as much conviction as he could muster. “Yeah, I promise.”_

_And, even though he had been telling Sam for years that stuff like holding hands was for girls and they had no business doing it now that they were growing up, it was about five more minutes before Dean let go of Sam’s hand – and he allowed Sam to be the one to pull away first._

xxxXXXXXxxxxxx

Dean shook his head, returning back to the present, unable to stop thinking about that night, about the kid Sam had been and the man he had become, and he wondered in the darkest corners of his mind if he and Dad and, to some extent, Bobby, had not failed Sam during that time. John and Bobby had told a twelve year old his brother was lost for two months. And Dean – Dean had stayed lost for two months.

He had a sudden desire to leave the room, but he tried to overcome it. He walked to the window and once more turned to face Sam, who was watching him, his eyebrows raised.

“Are you OK?” Sam asked in that would-be casual way of his he used when he was trying not to show he was worried about Dean.

Dean waved the question aside.

“When am I not OK?” he asked smirking, completely ignoring Sam’s snort of disbelief.

“Right. So – we’re looking for something that kidnaps kids and then…ages them?”

“Could it be some energy sucking thing?” Dean asked. “I mean, like shrtriga, but instead of weakening you and making you sick it ages you?”

Sam nodded thoughtfully.

“Maybe. Or maybe Kelsey really did age. I mean, there are stories of people being taken away to the fairy world or whatever and time moving differently there.”

Dean’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“We’re not back to fairies again, are we?”

“Or maybe it’s another plane of existence that functions like that. Stories of people disappearing and then returning to discover time has passed differently for them crop up all over the place.”

“Isn’t it usually backwards, though?” Dean asked. “Someone is taken to another world, thinks they spend several days there, return to find everyone they knew has been dead and buried a long time ago?”

Dean regretted the way he phrased it when he saw Sam flinch. Right, if that was not triggering every abandonment issue they both had…He cleared his throat.

“I think a talk with the coroner might be in order. See what really happened to Kelsey.”

Sam straightened his shoulders.

“You go,” he said. “I’ll talk to the father and stepmom. There’s something about them that doesn’t sit right with me.”

Dean nodded. He got where Sam was coming from. The most messed up thing about the entire situation was that the father of a twelve year old heard someone sneaking out in the middle of the night and had simply gone back to sleep. There was something shady about the good doctor Blackstone and, in such cases, he might have more chances of accidentally giving something away if he was confronted by only one person instead of two. And, since Sam had his soul back, Dean could once more pass witness-talking duty on to him. At least, now he could safely send Sam and know he would not try to make a move on the stepmother.

xxxXXXxxx

Kelsey’s body was stored at the sheriff station in the small basement that served as a morgue whenever it was needed. Apparently, it was not often in use. As Dean walked out after his rather dissatisfying talk with the shell-shocked doctor, he suddenly had the feeling he was being watched. He froze, but then he realized his pursuer was a brown haired- girl that could not have been older than ten. Her clothes were bright with all sort of swirling patterns. Someone had tried to comb her hair into two pigtails, but now strands of it stood in every direction. He dark eyes were fixed on Dean in that uncomfortable, unapologetic way children often surveyed people. Dean drew several steps closer to her.

“Hello,” he said.

The girl blinked at him.

“I don’t know you,” she stated.

Dean shook his head.

“No…I don’t think you do. But you can, if you want to. See, I’m Dean. What about you?”

He probably should not have been encouraging her to talk to strangers. But kids were always the best witnesses. They did not have the inhibitions adults had. If they saw a monster, they said it.

“I’m Lara,” she said. “I live in this town.”

“Did you know Kelsey?”

Lara nodded, avoiding Dean’s gaze.

“We were best friends. Is it true she won’t be coming back?”

Dean knelt down, so he was level with Lara.

“No,” he said honestly. “No, she isn’t. I’m sorry.”

Lara did not react to his attempt at sympathy.

“My Dad said it always happens the same way,” she told Dean. “Once every few years children go missing. The ones who want to run away in the first place, so he says.”

Dean tilted his head.

“Did Kelsey want to run away? Why? Was she unhappy at home?”

Lara rolled her eyes, as if the state of Kelsey Blackstone’s unhappiness at home was common knowledge.

“Her Dad got married again this year. For the third time. Kelsey said his new wife was like the wicked queen from Snow White had a baby with Cruella DeVil and the stepmom from Cinderella.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. He could bet anything Sam was going to get a different version from the Blackstones.

“So, where was she going to go?”

Lara shrugged.

“The evening before she left, she told me she would go to the woods and wait for the music to start playing.”

“The music?” Dean repeated blankly. “What like someone singing somewhere?”

“I don’t know. But she said there was someone who could help her get lost. She said all she needed to do was not want to be found.”

Dean froze. _Did you want to be found?_ Lara’s words so soon after he remembered Sam asking him that very question had alarms ringing in his head. Sam had been here all those years ago, in the same place children were disappearing regularly. What had he seen? What did he know? He acted as if he did not remember much and, true, after so many hunts it was natural for some to fade in the background. But what if there was more to this? What if there had always been more to this, and Dean just had not noticed?

“Do you think it really works that way?” Lara asked, distracting Dean from his thoughts. “If I don’t want to be found, could I do what Kelsey did?”

Dean frowned. She did not look neglected or abused, but he had long since learned not to judge only by appearance.

“Are you in any kind of trouble back home?”

Lara shook her head. She looked miserable, though.

“Mum’s having another baby,” she said. “And Jim Hayes from fifth grade says that’s when parents no longer pay attention to you ‘cause the new baby takes up all their time and cries a lot and you can’t sleep at night _at all_.”

Oh. _Oh._ That was surprisingly easy for Dean to fix. And, if he could stop Lara from heading off into the woods like Kelsey apparently did, then he would consider it a win.

“Hey, look, I’m not gonna lie to you,” he began. “Things at home _will_ change. And I’ll be the first to admit that younger siblings can be an irritating pain in the…uhhh…well, neck. But you get a whole lot out of them, too”

Lara tilted her head curiously.

“Like what?” she challenged.

_Like watching them grow into the person they’re supposed to be. Watching them work so hard to atone for their mistake and try to do good all the time. Knowing you had a part in who they are now._ But, of course, that was not something he could say to a kid.

“I have a little brother,” he said at length. “And I know he always has my back. Always. And when we were kids and our Dad hauled us places, I never felt alone. Because Sammy was there. And sometimes he’s annoying as…uhh…as heck, but I know I always got him, you know?”

Lara listened to him thoughtfully. Her face seemed to clear.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” she said.

Dean took out a card from his pocket and handed it to Lara.

“It really doesn’t,” he said. “Hey, listen, if you think anything’s strange, give me a call, ok? If you hear that music Kelsey was talking about, don’t go to it, just call me, right? And stay away from the woods.”

xxxxxxXXXXxxxxx

It took Sam less than a minute to determine that he did not like Robert and Cindy Blackstone. Robert was curt and brusque, and that could have been explained by his daughter being missing, but there was a kind of contempt that got on Sam’s nerves. It might have been his slightly unconventional look. Although he was wearing his Fed suit, it probably was not expensive enough to pass Doctor Blackstone’s standards and besides, Sam still had his long hair. Robert Blackstone acted all prim and proper, it took only the narrowed look he directed at Sam the first time he saw him to show that to him a respectable guy had no business wearing their hair that long.

Robert was slightly older than Sam had expected – he must have been Bobby’s age. Cindy was younger. She looked bored with the whole proceedings and refused to believe anything was wrong with Kelsey going missing.

“Kelsey’s not missing,” she said. “She’s hiding. She ran away.”

“Why would she do that, Mrs. Blackstone?” Sam asked.

Robert coughed as if to show he did not approve of Sam contradicting his wife’s opinions. Sam put on his most patient expression and counted to ten in his mind. In Latin.

“Kelsey never liked me,” Cindy said. “Half the time she’s trying to compare me to her mother, the other times she gets angry that I don’t pay her enough attention.”

“Agent, how is this relevant?” Robert asked. “I mean, if you guys had been doing your jobs properly, we wouldn’t have to worry about our children falling victims to every creep that passes through here. This isn’t even the first time. And you guys were there that one time, too.”

Sam tensed. He suspected he knew what Robert was talking about.

“That was almost twenty years ago.”

Robert nodded.

“I’d just gotten this practice, you know. Then kids started disappearing and these two weirdo Feds roll into town…one of them dragging a kid with him…”

Sam kept his face deliberately blank. He was in no danger of being recognized. He had not even hit his growth spurt back then. Robert would never connect him with the twelve year old he’d probably seen only briefly.

But what bothered Sam more was that he could not remember. Robert’s face was not in the least bit familiar, nor was the town itself. Of course, much could have changed since he was last there. But he still should have remembered something.

“So, did you meet this kid?” he asked.

It was a dangerous line of questioning. If something really had happened when he and John Winchester had been there the last time, perhaps it was not smart to remind the locals of that. Still, he could not leave it alone.

“Oh, I treated him,” Robert said carelessly. “That’s how I knew the Fed had brought his kid in the first place. Kid came in with a high fever. Was a bit out of it. Kept asking for someone…Don? Dan?...Something like that.”

The conversation was getting more and more disturbing. Sam did not enjoy the idea that he had been so delirious he could not remember what happened…and that he was so out of it he kept asking for Dean…Fortunately, Robert did not seem to notice his distress.

“They said he’d been sleepwalking the night before. Left his father’s hotel room and all. Walked all the way to the woods.”

Sam felt his blood run cold. As far as he knew, he had never sleepwalked in his life – he was pretty sure Dean would have told him if he had when he was a kid. So what had really happened to him when he had been in Rattigan that last time? And why couldn’t he remember anything?


	3. Chapter 3

_So they let him play_

_Play their minds away_

_ABBA – The Piper_

He should tell Dean the truth. He should tell him about what might have happened the last time he had been in town. They could no longer continue to keep secrets between them. Secrets were bad. They led to tragedies, to death and betrayal and heartbreak. Sam knew all that. Talking to Dean now, being honest with him for once, would have been the best thing to do.

Still, Sam hesitated. Partly it was because of how Dean reacted these days when it came to Sam’s memory. He tried keeping his brother away from prying into what had happened during his soulless escapades and Sam was afraid he might be tempted to grab Sam and haul ass, even though what had happened had been long ago and quite probably had no bearing on the Wall in Sam’s mind. Sam knew Dean enough to realize his brother would be hesitant to risk it.

And maybe he was wrong. Maybe this was not about Sam at all. Maybe Robert was talking about someone else. there were other Hunters who had kids and brought their kids on Hunts. It did not necessarily have to be him….Yeah, Sam was aware this was more wishful thinking than anything…

There was also the minor detail about yet another supernatural thing having gone after Sam. Of course, with what Sam knew now, the demon blood and his status as a vessel and all, he had probably looked like gourmet food for some of the monsters out there. And he didn’t want to remind Dean of all that.

Sam was telling himself that it would be better if he did some digging of his own first. Then, if he got anything concrete, he would tell Dean. Otherwise it would not do to drag the past up again. Dean would understand. Right, Sam thought his mouth quirking up. The day Dean understood Sam keeping secrets from him would be the day Castiel and Crowley got married and ruled Heaven and Hell jointly.

He and Dean had met at the local diner for lunch and to exchange notes. Dean was rather dissatisfied that he had not gotten much out of the coroner.

“According to him, the body is definitely that of a ninety-year-old woman. He did send her and Kelsey’s DNA to the nearest city for comparison. Against Doctor Blackstone’s wishes, though. Makes you wonder why.”

“I mean, right now Blackstone thinks his daughter is still missing. As long as he doesn’t get confirmation of the opposite, he can go on believing she is alive.”

Dean frowned.

“I’d say knowing the truth is better.”

“Is it?” Sam asked softly. “Would you think it’s better if it happened to you? I mean, as long as you don’t know for sure, you have hope. Once you know, what do you have left?”

Dean’s eyes darkened and Sam immediately regretted his question. With all that had happened to them, this was hitting too close to home. He was grateful when the waitress came with the food.

“Anyway,” Dean went on, “I ran into a friend of Kelsey’s. She said Kelsey might have left voluntarily. That she did not want to be found.”

Dean was watching him carefully as he spoke, and Sam started to wonder if he was really the only one keeping something from his brother.

“From what I gathered Kelsey did not really like her new stepmother.”

“Her _third_ stepmother,” Dean corrected. “Can’t say that I blame her. That doesn’t sound like a stable environment for a kid.”

Several years back, Sam would have pointed out that they were the last people on earth that should talk about growing up in a stable environment. He had seen enough, now, to realize some things could not have been avoided.

“Kelsey’s friend also told me her father was talking about the other times children have gone missing.”

Sam straightened up. This was his chance. If he talked now, Dean would at least not be mad at him for hiding things. Still, he could not bring himself to do it. Not before he knew for sure what was going on.

“Blackstone was saying something similar,” was all he said.

It wasn’t really a lie, was it? More like an omission.

Sam tuned his attention to his salad. It was actually good. One of the advantages of small towns was that vegetables were usually fresh and not the prepackaged stuff that tasted stale and rubbery. By the looks of it, Dean was enjoying his heart attack on a plate just as much.

“Anyway,” Dean said. “Lara – that’s Kelsey’s friend – was saying Kelsey told her something about music coming from the woods. That familiar to you?”

“Maybe,” Sam said. “I’ll have to do some digging, though. Something’s niggling at the edge of my mind. Can’t really put my finger on it just yet.”

xxxxxXXXXXxxxx

Jim Hayes scowled as he heard the front door closing behind his parents and his little sister. He went to the window and watched as they all got into the car and drove away, then he pulled the curtains back.

“Have fun,” he muttered. “Without me.”

It wasn’t as if he had _wanted_ to get that F in Literature. And it was not as if he had deliberately sought to get in trouble with the teacher. Well, yes, he had made that joke about Kelsey, and it was rather cruel, and he had a long history of scaring Kelsey and Lara and telling them all kinds of stuff, but it wasn’t his fault they believed him. Being punished by not being allowed to join the family on movie night sounded extreme. They never punished his sister like this. Of course, his mother would say she was too young to be left all alone in the house but still…

Jim looked around his room, scowling. There was nothing to do for about three hours, if not more. No way was he going to spend his time reading the stupid book with the stupid title that wasn’t even _about_ mockingbirds, no matter how much his school thought they had to read it. It wasn’t his fault his teacher had no idea what a good book actually was.

He once again went to the window and pulled back the curtains. He wondered if he couldn’t sneak out. Just a little walk and he’d be back by the time his family was home. No one would need to know.

It was then that he heard it. At first, Jim was not sure what it was. He opened the window and stuck his head out. Music! There was music but not coming out of a radio or something. It sounded like a strange instrument, a whistle or something close to it. Jim did not know what drew him to the song. Any other day, he would have scoffed and called it boring, since it did not have drums or an electric guitar or anything exciting. But right now, he felt like he needed to keep hearing that song. He needed to get close.

Jim left his room without bothering to close his window. He bounded down the stairs and grabbed his shoes, not waiting to put them on fully before he was out the door. He ran down the path that led away from the town, to the woods, where the music was coming from.

xxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxx

Sam and Dean got back to the hotel in the evening. Loretta was still at the front desk, scowling.

“Rats,” she said, when she saw the two. “There were several rats in the back yard. They scurried before I could do anything, but I can’t understand how they got here. I regularly set up traps. And yet this town still gets rat infestations once every several years.”

Sam stopped in his tracks.

“What about some twenty years ago?” he asked. “Did you have rats then, too?”

Loretta frowned in surprise.

“My God, honey, that was the worst time ever. They were everywhere. Got in the houses through the pipes and all. It was in the papers. You must have read about it there.”

Sam nodded quickly.

“Yeah, that must have been it.”

But the look he gave Dean showed that there was much more to it.

Once back in the room Sam went straight to the laptop. Dean watched him thoughtfully.

“I can see steam coming out of your ears, Sammy,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

“Are you familiar with the Pied Piper?” Sam asked.

Dean dragged a chair to the table and sat down opposite Sam.

“The rat-catcher dude, right?”

Sam nodded.

“Yeah, him. According to legend, the town of Hamelin in Germany was suffering from a rat infestation – which was pretty bad news in the Middle Ages, since they usually brought the plague with them. Now, this person came into town and promised to get rid of the rats. Which he did, by playing a tune on his pipe and drawing them to a river, where they drowned. Apparently, he did this twice and managed to save the town. But, when he asked for a fee, the townspeople refused to pay.”

“That’s a douchebag move,” Dean commented.

Sam’s lips quirked upwards.

“Apparently, he thought so too. Because the next time he played his flute, it was to draw away the town’s children.”

Dean was beginning to see what Sam was getting at. The music, the children going missing, and now the rats. It all fit.

“Draw them to where?” he wanted to know.

Sam hesitated.

“There’s more than one version about what happened to the children. Some stories have it that he led them away to a different land somewhere beyond the forests, where they could form a town of their own and where they lived the rest of their lives.”

Dean snorted.

“And the non-Disneyfied version?”

“That he led the children off a precipice or drowned them in a river,” Sam deadpanned.

Dean tapped his fingers against the table thoughtfully. Something still did not add up.

“Kelsey did not drown,” he pointed out. “She came back aged up. What have you got to say about that?”

Sam hesitated.

“That he probably did take them somewhere. Some place where time moves differently, as I said the first time. Or maybe he does not do the same thing to every child. Maybe he varies the punishment.”

The sound of a police siren had Dean tensing. The car drove by the motel without stopping and Dean relaxed. He noticed the frown on Sam’s face.

“You said this town was set up by German immigrants, right? Think they brought their own Pied Piper with them?”

“Maybe,” Sam said. “There might be something else.”

He paused, chewing his lip in the classical I-don’t-think-I-should-tell-Dean pose. Dean tried to hold his irritation in check.

“Dude, if you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Sam looked like he was actually considering it. Then, he shook his head.

“Just give me some time to think this through. I might have something else, but I’m not sure yet.”

Dean was about to press. But it was getting late and Sam looked tired. Maybe they should wait until the morning.

He was nearly falling asleep when he thought he heard the police sirens again. They drove past the hotel, heading towards the woods.

xxxXXXXxxxx

At first, Dean had no idea what had woken him. His phone said it was 02:30 a.m. The room was silent and warm, for once. He was comfortable, the blankets soft and heavy. He buried his face in the pillow and closed his eyes, willing himself to go back to sleep.

Then his eyes snapped open. He recognized a sound that did not belong to the room. A soft scurrying outside the window. Grabbing his knife from under his pillow, he padded to the window and drew back the curtains. A giant rat stared back at him from outside. Dean cursed and drew back, letting the curtains drop. He hated rats, and having one so close by made him all kinds of uncomfortable. But the window was locked, so it couldn’t get in. Not to mention the wards that kept away anything unnatural.

He was ready to head back to bed when another sound caught his attention, this time from the room. And this was something Dean was familiar with. Sam’s breathing was speeding up, the way it usually did at the onset of a nightmare. Dean braced himself, waiting to see what would happen. Maybe the nightmare would stop on its own. And maybe it would progress, in which case Dean was ready to wake his brother before it did any damage.

Sam sat up with a gasp his eyes wide open. Dean moved swiftly to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. Sam was still sitting up, breathing harshly, seemingly searching for something. He seemed confused when he saw Dean, but then recognition returned to his eyes and he started to calm down.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No problem,” Dean said. “Mind telling me what was that about?”

Sam drew a hand over his face. Dean tried to pretend he did not notice it was shaking.

“Just a nightmare, man,” Sam said.

“Sam…” Dean began warningly.

Sam shook his head.

“No, really, Dean. Just a regular, run-of-the-mill wacky dream. It wasn’t about anything in particular. I was…I was walking down a corridor, that’s all. I was walking down a long corridor and it was dark and I could hear something.”

“What?” Dean asked leaning forward. “Hear what?”

Sam shrugged.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I could figure out even in the dream. But I was…I was scared. I don’t know why. It felt like I was suddenly the only person alive in the world. Like everyone I knew was gone.” Sam paused, then laughed shamefacedly. “Like I said, just a weird dream.”

Dean debated pushing further, but Sam looked like he was actually ready to go back to sleep. He moved to switch off the light, clutching Sam’s shoulder briefly. He ignored the warm feeling when he felt Sam relax under his touch. Apparently, a year without Sam and almost six months with his brother’s soulless replica had not made Dean lose his talents.

He went back to bed, but he could not fall back asleep. It was not the first time Sam had that dream. In fact, he remembered the first time very clearly now.

xxxXXXXxxxx

_The first night after Dean’s return from Sonny’s, Sam slept like a log. After his brief heart-to-heart with Dean, the kid had stretched out under the blankets and was out like a light in record time. Dean figured he must have been exhausted and wondered how much sleep Sam had gotten during his two months absence. Dean himself fell asleep quite quickly, too. He had not realized it while he was at Sonny’s, but now it came to him. He had missed Sam breathing next to him. It was weird and all kinds of sappy, but Dean knew his little brother’s breathing pattern by heart. He could fall asleep to it._

_The second night, though, was when the problems started. He and Sam had spent the day doing mostly nothing. John had called to let them know his hunt would probably be over in a week, after which he would be back to take the boys to spend some time at Pastor Jim’s place. Sam had perked up at that. Then Dean had gone on a grocery run in the evening, and Sam had insisted on accompanying him. The kid was probably terrified Dean would disappear on him again, and Dean was feeling mellow enough to indulge him._

_That night Dean woke up suddenly to the sound of Sam’s harsh breathing. He quickly switched on the light. Sam was struggling with the blankets, his eyes tightly shut, an expression if unspeakable panic on his face. Dean was by his bedside in an instant._

_“Sammy,” he said, reaching out but not daring to shake him yet. “Sam, come on. Wake up.”_

_Sam sat up with a cry, his eyes suddenly wide, searching wildly across the room. Something in them seemed to settle when he caught sight of Dean, but he did not stop trembling._

_“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said, sitting down on the bed next to him and allowing Sam to grab a hold of his arms. “Hey, you’re safe here, buddy. Just you and me here, see?”_

_Sam took a deep breath, shaking his head._

_“There was…” he gulped. “I wasn’t here…There was this place…and I was all alone…And there was this sound…And…and he told me you were lost and would never be found again…Said you wanted it that way…”_

_“Sammy, we’ve already talked about this,” Dean interrupted him quickly. “Where else do you think I’d want to be?”_

_Sam said nothing for a while. Dean allowed him the silence, thinking the only thing he could do for his brother now was to give him time to put himself together. And be there. Like he had not been these last two months, and he was only now starting to realize what his prolonged absence had done to Sam._

_“It was just a dream, dude,” Dean said, reaching out to pat his brother’s back._

_“Those two months weren’t a dream, though,” Sam insisted. “And I really was there. I really was alone.”_

_“Well, you’re not anymore,” Dean said firmly. “So why don’t you go back to sleep and tomorrow we can think of some awesome way to spend the day together. Anything you want, right, Sammy? Even if it’s embarrassingly geeky and girly.”_

_Sam snorted._

_“God, I’d forgotten what a jerk you are.”_

_But he sounded relieved instead of offended._

XXXxxxxxXXXXX

Dean was unable to go back to sleep that night, not after what he had just remembered. He sat for a long time watching Sam sleep. His brother was almost on the edge of the bed, facing Dean, as he always did after he had a nightmare. He looked peaceful, for once, but Dean could not get over the many worry lines he saw on Sam’s face.

One thing was bothering him. This Hunt was tied to what had happened in the past. Back then, he had thought Sam’s dream had been nothing more than the imagination of a scared kid who had spent two months wondering if he was going to see his brother again. But now Dean was forced to reconsider this. What had happened in Rattigan when Sam had been here the first time? What had his father hidden from him? And, more importantly, what was Sam hiding from him now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Legend of the Pied Piper of Hamelin is a very intriguing one. Particularly because in the town of Hamelin (Germany) there is a record from the year 1300 saying: “It’s been a hundred years since our children left” and there are documents that show that over 100 children vanished some time in the 1200s. There are a lot of theories about what might have happened (if something did happen). One is an illness that affected children more than adults. Another is that the children might have been taken to serve in a war (not necessarily only as soldiers, but also as attendants to soldiers). Another is that they were indeed taken to another land (I think some legends say to a valley between forests, or something like that). Meaning, they were taken (or probably either given or sold by their parents) to what was known as a recruiter to populate certain areas in Central and Eastern Europe. Some say Poland (where, in some areas, there are people with German-sounding last names) or Transylvania (where there is a German community even today). Right. I should stop geeking out now ;)


	4. Chapter 4

_Come little children, I'll take thee away_

_Into a land of enchantment_

_Come little children, the time's come to play_

_Here in my garden of shadows._

_John Debney – Come Little Children_

When Sam woke up the next morning, he realized he was alone in his room. He felt a flicker of alarm, before he caught sight of the _Gone for coffee. Stay put_ sign pinned on the bedside lamp, right where he could easily spot it. Sam grinned. Dean knew him so well sometimes.

Sam had actually been hoping for some time to himself. He got up and riffled through Dean’s duffle bag until he found their Dad’s journal. He needed to see what Dad had written about the boogeyman Hunt from twenty years back. Maybe there would be a clue there about what had happened to him. If there was, Sam would have no choice but to tell Dean.

The journal was not too helpful, though. Sam scowled. His father had either written about his hunts in great detail, going as far as to draw the creatures he encountered, or he had given sparse information, keeping the rest of what he knew only to himself. The journal gave only some curt information about the boogeyman and how to kill him. One suggestion was cut out, with the note _That didn’t work. Tell Singer_ added to it. So, John had indeed killed a boogeyman. Nothing told Sam whether he had known there was another supernatural entity preying on kids.

There were also the names and ages of the victims (all between nine and twelve), but no details about who they were or what had happened to them. Sam didn’t see his name there, but he wasn’t too surprised. Even if he was right, and he had been a victim of either the boogeyman or the Pied Piper, that was not information John Winchester would mention in his journal. He was paranoid like that.

One thing, though, got Sam’s attention more than the absence of what had been written there. The entry ended with a terse: _Have to pick up Dean_. Sam wondered if it had been John’s intention all along to get Dean after the boogeyman Hunt – or if something that had happened to Sam had made him decide to get Dean from Sonny’s quicker than planned.

The sound of someone fiddling with the doorknob had Sam shoving John’s journal back in Dean’s duffle bag. Several seconds later, Dean walked in, carrying two coffees in one hand and a plate of pancakes in the other.

“Courtesy of Loretta Bracegirdle,” said, closing the door with his foot. “I think she likes us.”

“Wait till she sees you parked the Impala right on her flowerbed,” Sam pointed out.

“Dude, it’s not my fault the only parking spot was taken last night. Didn’t even think anyone else had come into town.”

“They didn’t,” Sam replied sniffing suspiciously at his coffee – since this was Dean, it never hurt to me careful. “Apparently local judge likes to use this hotel as a love nest.”

Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Dude, how do you even know that? Never mind. Let me tell you some real news. Whole town’s on the alert, apparently.”

Sam felt his blood run cold.

“What, another kid is missing?”

Dean nodded grimly.

“Jim Hayes. Also 12. Knew Kelsey, apparently. He disappeared last evening while he was on timeout for some thing or other. Parents and sister came home to find the window open and a big ass rat in the room.”

Sam was beginning to reconsider breakfast. He pushed his food away pretending not to see Dean’s frown.

“So, if he was being punished for something, I assume he was pretty pissed at his folks. When kids are pissed, they do rash things. Like run away.”

Dean moved to sit opposite Sam, pushing the tray of food back towards his brother. Sam glared at him but did not comment.

“One thing that might not hold with your theory. See, the kid’s parents say all his shoes were still in the house. So, either Jim Hayes must have really wanted to go out in a hurry, and he didn’t mind going barefoot – or someone else took him.”

Sam pushed back his chair abruptly. He still remembered what Robert had said. But it was more than that. He met Dean’s concerned gaze with his wide eyes.

“It’s what happened before,” he said. “It’s…I remember something now…”

xXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxx

_Sam woke up to raised voices._

_Any other time he would have been impressed with the hotel. It was clean and tidy, completely unlike the dumps they all too often stayed in. Dean would have loved it. Dean would have especially loved the pie the owner’s daughter had prepared for them. The thought made the apples taste bitter in Sam’s mouth._

_He did not remember when he had fallen asleep, but he knew even without opening his eyes that it was still night. His Dad was arguing with someone. The other Hunter, he realized. Greenberg, who had said he would follow them and get the room next to theirs._

_“I don’t see why you always have to overcomplicate things,” Greenberg was saying. “You said it was straightforward right? A boogeyman, that’s all. The pattern really fits.”_

_“The pattern fits with some victims, not all,” John hissed. “And keep your friggin voice down. My son’s asleep.”_

_Sam kept himself perfectly still hoping the two were not looking at him._

_“Oh yes – and why is he here?” Greenberg sneered. “What’s this, his school was having career day?”_

_Sam wondered if Greenberg was aware he was pushing all of John’s buttons and what happened to people who did that._

_“I’ve got my own reasons for bringing Sam here,” John said coolly._

_“I wonder what reasons you could possibly have,” Greenberg commented. “It’s not my business, though.”_

_“Damn right it ain’t. Now, here’s what I’m thinking. We need to figure out which victims were taken by the boogeyman and…”_

_“And nothing,” Greenberg interrupted. “They were only taken by the boogeyman. There’s nothing else here and I don’t understand why you keep insisting.”_

_“The boogeyman takes children it considers misbehaved,” John argued. “Like the school bully or the guy who pranks his little sister by tying her shoelaces together and then laughing when she falls flat on her face…”_

_“And kids who run away,” Greenberg pointed out. “Which is what the victims you keep singling out have in common.”_

_The huff of annoyance told Sam that his father was at the end of his tethers._

_“They were good kids, Greenberg. Just good kids in bad situations who ran away because they wanted to escape something. We don’t really know if they really ran away. And it’s really, really strange that all of them ran away during the night, without their shoes on”_

_There was a pause, then Greenberg’s voice, sounding genuinely curious._

_“Is that why you brought him along?”_

_Sam willed himself not to move. He nearly held his breath, but he realized that would only make his father aware that he was listening in instead of sleeping._

_“What did you say to me?” John asked, his voice suddenly flat and dangerous._

_“I mean – I don’t blame you,” Greenberg added, apparently not knowing when to quit. “The kid fits the profile. He already tried to run once, right? So, he’s probably already on the creature’s radar. Are you trying to use your own son as bait, Johnny?”_

_As Sam lay there stunned, not knowing what to think, there was a swift rustle and a gasp from Greenberg._

_“You listen to me,” John said, his voice so quiet, Sam had to strain his hearing to catch the words. “You get the hell out of my sight. And if you ever come near my family, I’m tearing you to pieces? Got that?”_

_There was a brief silence then, he heard the door being wrenched open and shut. Greenberg had left._

_Sam stirred. With the racket Greenberg had made leaving, it would have been foolish to pretend he was still asleep. He opened his eyes and nearly flinched when he saw his father was looking straight at him. Something in John’s face seemed to soften._

_“Sorry, Sammy,” he said. “Did we wake you?”_

_Sam shrugged._

_“I don’t know,” he said, because he honestly did not know what had woken him. “Is anything wrong?”_

_John strode to the table where he had laid out the guns for cleaning. His back was to Sam now._

_“Nothing’s wrong, Sam. Go back to sleep. It’s late.”_

_Sam knew a dismissal when he got one. Still, he would not go to sleep without asking the one question that was always one his mind._

_“Dad, this case…is Dean involved? Is he…one of the missing kids, I mean?”_

_John turned to look at Sam, startled by the question._

_“No, of course not. He’s too old for one thing.”_

_ But I’m not, _ _Sam thought. He did not say that out loud, though. It would have been unfair. His dad may have been many things, but Sam was convinced he would never use his children as bait in such a manner. Whatever John did for them, he did out of his own twisted version of love. Not for his own gains._

_John strode towards the door to make sure it was locked._

_“Go to sleep, Sam,” he insisted. “You’ll be too tired to do anything tomorrow, if you keep staying up late.”_

_That night, as Sam still lay awake unable to go back to sleep, he thought he heard something outside. Music, a soft distant sound that was both enticing and frightening at the same time. He longed to answer that call. He was sure that, if he followed that song, it would take him to where Dean was._

xxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxx

“Dad knew,” Sam said. “Or maybe not exactly knew, but he suspected.”

Dean looked at him in confusion.

“Suspected what?”

“That it wasn’t only a boogeyman. That there was something else. He was arguing with Greenberg about it. Saying some kids didn’t fit the profile and those were the kids who had apparently left their house in such a hurry they even left their shoes behind.”

Dean was looking at him with suspicion.

“How come you suddenly know this?”

Sam shook his head, irritated.

“Look, that’s not the point. It just came to me, alright? I remember Dad and Greenberg arguing.”

“About what?” Dean insisted.

Sam hesitated, aware that any mention of Greenberg having suggested using a twelve-year-old Sam as bait for a monster would have ended up with the Hunter on Dean’s hit list.

“About how to properly handle the case.”

Well, that was not a complete lie, was it?

“And Dad suspected it was the Pied Piper?”

That was the big question, and it frustrated Sam that he could not remember. How much had Dad figured out?

“Dad suspected something was working in tandem with the boogeyman. As we know, they did catch the bogeyman, and I guess for a while kids stopped disappearing.”

Dean did not look satisfied. He was frowning at Sam, as if he was searching for holes in his theory.

“But if Dad knew, why is the Pied Piper still here? Did Dad catch him – or thought he did or…what else happened, Sam? What else do you remember?”

The way Dean was looking at him, Sam could tell his brother suspected he was hiding something. Yet again, he thought about what Robert had told him – and realized he was not ready to share the information with Dean. Not yet. Not until he knew more.

“Nothing, Dean,” Sam stressed. “I remember nothing. If I knew anything for certain, if I remembered anything that had a bearing on this case, I’d tell you. Believe me.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. He took a step towards Sam, looking him up and down.

“You had crazy nightmares when I came back,” he remarked. “Remember that?”

Sam shrugged. He really didn’t. He had a lot of material to give him “crazy nightmares”, anyway.

Dean turned away from him, becoming the objective Hunter ready to solve the case. Sam took a deep breath. He could handle this side of Dean better than the worried big brother part. Not when he was so scared himself that something had happened to him, and he could not remember anything. Well, what with his hidden memories of Hell and his soulless time, wasn’t this just another day at the office for him?

“Fine,” Dean said. “Let’s focus on Jim Hayes for now. The police think he went into the woods. I say we go have a look around.”

“Sounds good,” Sam said. “You go to the car and I’ll catch up. I want to see if Bobby has something on the Pied Piper.”

He was glad that Dean left without pointing out to Sam that he could call Bobby from the Impala. Once Dean was out, Sam dialed Bobby’s number.

“Hey, Bobby,” he began. “So, we think we’re dealing with a Pied Piper. That ring a bell to you?”

_“Haven’t heard of one this side of the ocean, not for a while,”_ Bobby mused. “ _If you’re really dealing with a Piper, it’s gonna be tricky ganking him. They’re slippery sons of bitches.”_

“Anything we can do to even the odds?” Sam asked.

“ _Well, his power is in his pipe. If you get your hands on that, you might have a chance. Problem is, they never let go of it.”_

Sam hesitated. He did not know how much he should tell Bobby of what he knew. He was aware that, if Bobby deemed it necessary, he would tell Dean immediately. But he had to find out what Bobby knew.

“Hey, after this case, did you talk to Dad? Or to Greenberg?”

There was a silence on the other end. Sam was sure Bobby was getting suspicious.

“ _Not immediately, no. Your Dad went to get Dean – which in itself was strange, because the deal was to leave him there another month. As for Greenberg – he went his merry way. Only sent me a message to say the boogeyman was toast.”_

Sam chewed on his lip. He might as well tell the rest of it, now – or, as much of the rest of it as he was sure of.

“Did you tell Greenberg you were giving this new case to us? Did you mention Dean and me by name I mean?”

_“Didn’t see any reason to. Why?”_

Sam rubbed a hand over his face.

“The details are a little sketchy – but I think Dad and Greenberg did not part as friends.”

Bobby snorted.

“ _Well, no offence, son, but not a lot of people wanted to be friends with your dad, he had that effect. As for Greenberg, he’s a grade A psychopath. Makes Gordon Walker look like a Teddy Bear.”_

And with that, Bobby left Sam with more questions than answers. He wished he could find someone who knew what had happened between his Dad and Greenberg back then. But for now, the only thing he could do was focus on the case.

xxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxx

They drove to the forest, although it was not far. They wanted to have a quick getaway, in case it was needed.

“So,” Dean said, after Sam filled him in on part of his conversation with Bobby. “Take the pipe. What do you think we should do with it afterwards? Burn it? Think that would put a stop to the son of a bitch for good?”

“Probably,” Sam said thoughtfully. “What I don’t get is why he’s doing this? Why this town? What happened here? And why these victims?”

“Does it matter?” Dean asked.

“It might. From the way Bobby was talking it seemed there was more than one Pied Piper. So – maybe you can become one. In the right circumstances.”

Dean thought hard about that.

“Didn’t you say that, in the original legend, the dude took the kids away because he got pissed the townspeople wouldn’t pay him?”

Sam nodded quickly.

“We should look for someone who was wronged somehow. Won’t be easy. It’s a small town. People collect lots of grudges here.”

Dean grunted. He himself had never really liked small towns for that very reason. They were a magnet for all kinds of supernatural crap.

“Also,” Sam went on. “The original Pied Piper took most of the kids in Hamelin. The only ones he left behind were those that could not go. Like a deaf kid who could not hear the music, or a kid who had trouble walking, so they couldn’t keep up.”

“So, why’s this one being so selective with his victim pool?” Dean wanted to know.

“Don’t know,” Sam said. “But it could be important.”

The forest was on the edge of the town. They had to cross a small footbridge to get to it. Dean parked in front of the bridge and they both got out.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Dean said.

Sam nodded. He could sense Dean’s excitement, but, for once, he could not share it. Everything about that place felt wrong to him. Something was screaming at him that he should not go there, that there were dangers waiting that he would never be able to escape again. He pushed through the fear and followed his brother. Even if this was the echo of some memory of what had happened to him before, he was not twelve this time. He was grown up, and he had been through far worse than the Pied Piper. He certainly could not have been worse than Hell.

The forest was quiet. They could hear nothing except the wind through the trees.

“That can’t be good,” Dean said. “There should be birds.”

Sam did not remember seeing any birds in Rattigan either. In fact, the only wild animals he had seen were the rats. As they had driven towards the forest, they had spotted groups of rats scuttling around trash cans.

They walked through the forest, getting more and more unnerved by the quiet. Sam looked around, trying to find something familiar. He did not see anything, but at the same time he was more convinced than ever that he had been here before. He looked at Dean thoughtfully. The time had come for him to be straight with his brother.

“Hey, Dean,” he began, taking a deep breath. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

His brother tensed, which did not surprise Sam. For both of them, _There’s something I have to tell you_ usually preceded news they were not going to like. But then Sam realized Dean had not been paying attention to him. Something else had distracted his brother.

“Hold that thought, Sammy,” Dean said. “I think I saw something up ahead.”

Sam squinted ahead, but he could see nothing. Just trees and more trees. And then, he thought he caught something next to a half-fallen tree. There was a hollow there, and Sam knew they should not be going anywhere near it.

“Dean,” he began worriedly, but then stopped abruptly.

He could hear something now, coming from that direction. A faint whimpering, as if someone was crying. His eyes met Dean’s. They did not need to say anything. They headed on ahead, their guns at the ready.

In the shelter of the tree there was a child. A young boy in pajamas, huddled there with his hands around his knees to keep himself warm. He was shaking, and it was hard to tell if it was from the cold or fear. There were tears in his eyes and dried tear-tracks on his face. He looked up at the sound of Sam and Dean’s approach. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Hey,” Dean said gently. “You’re Jim Hayes, aren’t you? You know, your family’s real worried about you?”

The boy chewed on his lower lip, as if considering answering the two strangers or not.

“You’re not him,” he said at length. “The man with the rats.”

Sam approached the boy cautiously, so as not to frighten him any more than he already was. He took off his jacket and handed it to Jim. It looked like the kid was swimming in it, but at least it would keep him warm until they got him home.

“We’re not him,” he said. “In fact, we’re here to save you from him. We’re here to take you home.”

“But first we need you to answer some questions,” Dean said. “Where did this…man with the rats…where did he take you?”

Jim gulped. Wherever he had been the night before, he certainly had not enjoyed it.

“There was this place,” he said. “This huge hallway. It was dark. I was alone. I was so afraid.”

Sam could feel Dean’s eyes on him. He remembered the nightmare from the night before – and he could not deny the similarities with Jim’s.

“How did you get loose?” he said.

Jim shrugged.

“I wasn’t supposed to. There were doors on either side. I just kept opening them. I must have opened the right one.”

And Kelsey had opened the wrong one, which was probably why she had returned as an old woman. And Sam? What door had he opened?

“First thing first,” Dean said, his tone matter of fact and business-like. “We’ll get you back to your folks. Then we’ll make sure the man with the rats never gets you or anyone else ever again.”

“He said those that come to him don’t want to be found,” Jim said. “But I did. I don’t think I wanted to run away in the first place. I was just upset. Do you think that’s why he let me go? Because I actually wanted to be found?”

“I think whatever he told you were lies,” Dean said harshly. “None of the kids wanted to go with him. And they all wanted to be found. Now come on. Let’s take you home.”

Sam decided to carry Jim. He was glad he had apparently worked out while soulless. Carrying a twelve year old was not exactly easy, especially not in the forest. But, since Jim did not have shoes on and was one sock short, it was better for him.

As they walked back towards civilization, Sam chanced a look behind. He thought he saw something scurrying next to the tree trunk. A rat, for sure. And suddenly, he had the distinct impression that he knew that place. He saw himself walking that very forest at midnight, cold and afraid, like Jim Hayes had been, but held in a spell, unable to turn back. He nearly stumbled and was glad when Dean steadied him.

Sam glanced at his brother and noticed the darkness in Dean’s eyes. He knew, Sam realized. He knew Sam had been hiding something about the case from him. Once they got Jim home, Sam had to prepare himself for the confrontation that would follow. He just hoped Dean would understand why he had kept this from him. It was hard to talk about memories you weren’t so sure of yourself.


	5. Chapter 5

_I am the painted faces, the toxic kiss_

_Sowing of doubt, troll beneath the bridge._

_Come across_

_Death by a thousand cuts_

_Believe it, we live as we dream_

_Nightwish – **Ghost River**_

They drove Jim Hayes to his home and delivered him to his worried parents. Jim would not say much of where he had been – even in the car, with Sam and Dean, he had only given a brief description of what had happened, proving that his memory was spotty, either from shock or from whatever the Pied Piper had done to him. But he was adamant that Sam and Dean had saved him, which earned both brothers some enthusiastic hugs from the mother and the baby sister.

When they reached the hotel, Loretta told them she had started to bake some cookies for them, “ _you boys are heroes, you know”_. News in small towns travelled fast, and by now, almost everyone knew of Sam and Dean’s rescue. Sam had retired to his room, flustered. Dean stayed behind.

“Hey, Loretta,” Dean said, once he made sure Sam was out of earshot. “Can you help me with something?” He fumbled with his wallet, where he still kept a picture of his Dad and showed it to Loretta. “Did this man show up the last time kids were disappearing from here? He would not have been alone.”

Loretta looked long and hard at the photograph, then at Dean. She shook her head.

“It’s been a long time. I didn’t even own the hotel back then. My parents did. But – yes. It was unusual enough that I remember. He was on a case – yet he was dragging this boy with him. Said something about being called on an emergency while he was on a family vacation and couldn’t leave him.” Loretta hesitated, her eyes fixed on Dean. “You don’t just keep anyone’s photograph in your wallet, son. You keep pictures of family there. Now, I think you’re too old to be the boy in the picture. But – your brother…”

Dean stuffed the picture back in the wallet without answering. Loretta smiled slightly.

“He’s grown quite a bit, hasn’t he? You know, he had this habit of glancing around him. Like he was expecting someone else to be there – like he was so used to someone else being there, he took it for granted. And then when he found himself alone, he’d look so disappointed. From what the other Agent hinted, the boy had lost his mother, so I thought that must be it. But it wasn’t his mother he was looking for, was it?”

“What else can you tell me?” Dean asked. “About Sam. Something happened to him, didn’t it?”

Loretta drew back slightly.

“Well, don’t you know? He nearly became one of the missing kids. He sleepwalked his way right into the forest. We almost didn’t find him in time, you know.”

And that was all the answers Dean needed.

xxxxxxxXXXXxxxxxxx

When Dean walked in, Sam was busy with his laptop. He had Dad’s journal next to him and was looking at a list of names.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“Hmm?” Sam asked distractedly. “Oh, just checking the names of the victims from Dad’s case. I’m trying to sort out which might have been taken by the boogeyman and which by the Pied Pieper. Like this we can know something about his victim pool. It’s not exactly easy, though, because it was a while back. Records are sketchy – not a lot of them have been transferred online, I think. I might get more at the local library. Or, I don’t know. Talking to the victims’ families.”

Dean walked to his bed, but did not sit down.

“Or,” he began and his hard tone made Sam stiffen. “We could just look at the kid we do know about.”

Sam looked up. Dean’s face was inscrutable. It was enough to warn him that something was wrong.

“What, you mean Jim Hayes?” he asked uncertainly. “Dean, I thought that one of the older victims would actually be more useful…”

Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“I meant _you_ , Sam. You’re not going to sit there and say you don’t know you were one of the original victims. You lied to me, Sam.”

Sam shook his head, desperate to deter his brother’s wrath.

“Dean, I did _not_ lie to you,” he insisted, then, added quickly, hearing his brother’s indignant huff: “I really didn’t. I swear I don’t remember being taken by anything, or what happened afterwards. I barely remember being here at all, and everything that I did remember, I shared with you. There were no lies, Dean.”

Dean walked the length of the room, running a hand over his face. He looked overwhelmingly tired all of a sudden.

“Sam” he said. “You can’t just look me in the eye and tell me that at some point, you did not start to suspect.”

Sam took a deep breath. He had already made up his mind to tell Dean everything.

“When I went to talk to Robert Blackstone, he said some things,” he began. “I think he is the one who treated me back then. He said I…I was sick when they found me in the forest. I know I should have told you…”

“You think?” Dean huffed. “Sam, it’s always the same thing and you never learn. You hide things from me and that’s when everything falls apart.”

A flash of irritation replaced Sam’s previous guilt.

“You’re one to talk, Dean. Aren’t you the one that was keeping things from me? I had to find out from Cass that I was walking around for a whole year without a soul.”

He regretted his words as soon as he saw Dean flinch.

“That was different,” Dean said tiredly. “I was trying to protect you. What you’re doing here is…I don’t know what this is.”

He strode to the hanger and grabbed his jacket. Sam felt a rush of cold spill over him.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Dean refused to look at him.

“I need to clear my head,” he stated bluntly. “Stay here.”

He was out the door before Sam could even think of stopping him. Sam was unspeakably relieved when he did not hear the familiar rumble of the Impala. So, wherever Dean was going, he had chosen to walk. Which meant he was not leaving Sam there permanently. Not that Dean would ever do something like that to him – but there were times when Sam thought he would actually deserve it.

XXXxxxxXXXXXX

At first, Dean walked aimlessly through the narrow streets of the small town. He had to side-step some rats a couple of times, which nearly sent him back, but whatever fear or distaste he might have of rats, he still did not want to face Sam just yet. Not before he managed to reconcile himself with the idea that his brother had kept something from him yet again. Dean had really thought they were past this.

He felt angry at everything and everyone. At Dad for never telling him something had happened to Sam. At Sam for keeping this from him – then and now. He might have experienced something traumatic enough to forget at some point, but Dean was sure when they had picked him up from the boys’ home, Sam had still remembered. He was angry at Greenberg and whatever shady stuff he had going on back on the original hunt. Hell, if Dean was honest, he was even angry at Bobby for throwing the case at them. They had been doing so well.

Dean shook his head. Part of him understood Sam’s hesitation to share this with him. If Sam really was not sure of what he remembered, he’d be reluctant to talk. Dean knew his brother enough to realize he had major control issues – and him being drawn by a dude with a flute and then having his memories somehow erased was not going to be easy to process.

Another part – and, a bigger part, if he was honest – was pissed as hell. When was Sam going to get that being upfront with him would actually help? What could Dean do, if he did not know something was wrong with Sam? Of course, this did not start with Sam. It had started with John Winchester, who had thought for some reason Dean had to be kept in the dark about Rattigan. And, for the life of him, Dean could not understand why.

He’d stopped and sat down on a bench in what passed for the town’s playground/dog park. He searched his mind for that time right after he had come back from Sonny’s. Surely, his father must have given him some hints that something had happened to Sam. Maybe Dean had just not known how to read them.

xxxxXXXXXXxxxx

_Dad came back three days after he picked up Dean from Sonny’s. By then, Sam was almost back to his normal self. He snarked back at Dean whenever he could, seemingly more used to having his brother around again and beginning to understand that nothing he was going to do would have Dean vanishing again. Dean still had not told him about where he had been, although Sam was starting to ask more and more direct questions. Dean knew he would have to tell him – no matter what Dad said._

_Despite the fact that he was getting better, Sam still seemed reluctant to let Dean out of his sight for more than ten minutes. It was good they were going to Pastor Jim’s and not some Hunt where they might have been forced to leave Sam at the motel. Dean did not think Sammy could handle that right now._

_Sam was still sleeping when John got back. Dean made to head towards his brother and wake him, but John shook his head._

_“Not yet,” he said, then indicated that they should go outside. “I want to talk to you first, Dean.”_

_Dean braced himself for the lecture he had been expecting ever since he had been picked up from the boys’ home. Something about responsibility and consequences, stuff that did not really click with their lifestyle – they did a lot of things and fled before facing the consequences, why should this time be any different? He was surprised, however, by John’s questions._

_“How was Sam?”_

_Dean shrugged. He did not think Sam would appreciate it if he shared with their father how clingy he was when it came to his brother._

_“You know. He’s Sam. Hey, has he been sick or anything?”_

_John hesitated, then shrugged._

_“It was just a bug, Dean. Kids pick up stuff all the time. Has he said anything to you?”_

_About what? Dean had wanted to ask. He did not want to talk about Sam’s nightmares. It would have felt like a violation of trust, revealing them to someone else. Even to their Dad._

_“He wants to know where I was,” he said instead._

_The way John was looking at him, Dean had to wonder if his father did not realize he was keeping things from him. Still, he made no comment._

_“Let me know if he says anything. Or, if he does anything that’s…unlike Sam.”_

_Dean’s eyebrows rose. He was ready to ask what that was supposed to mean, when the door to their room opened and Sam’s disheveled head appeared. He looked at Dean wide-eyed._

_“I woke up and you weren’t there,” he said accusingly._

_Dean smiled reassuringly._

_“I’m right here, Sammy. Just talking to Dad, see.”_

_Sam inspected his father, frowning. John did not seem to take offence, probably because Sam looked like he was only half-awake._

_“Hey there, sport,” he greeted. “Ready to go to Pastor Jim’s? You can take care of that mangy dog you like so much.”_

_Sam tilted his head, not even reacting to the mention of a dog._

_“Dean’s coming too, right?”_

_“Well, where else would he go?” John asked carelessly._

_And Dean was so annoyed by that question that he forgot about asking Dad why he wanted to know if Sam was acting like himself or not._

xxxXXXXXxxxxxx

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. So, he might as well add himself to the list of people who had handled the situation poorly back then. He should have pushed with his Dad. He should have pushed with _Sam_. He should have seen then and there that something was wrong. The two months at Sonny’s must have made him soft. Otherwise, he would have caught on to Dad trying to tell him something might be up with Sam. As for Dad – well, the man had always been a cryptic mess. What else was new?

Dean got up. He knew what he had to do – talk to someone who had been there. Who had witnessed what had happened twenty years ago. Sam would not do – Sam did not even remember everything. And, besides, after their fight, Dean was not ready to face Sam yet. That would come later. After he knew more. But there was someone else in town who could help.

He paused at the grocery store to ask for directions, then walked two more streets until he reached the large house with the sign for a doctor’s office in the front yard. He rang the bell. His eyes narrowed as he took in the haggard face of the man who opened it. This was someone who had recently lost a loved one, he reminded himself.

“Doctor Blackstone?” he said.

The man shook his head impatiently.

“Unless you have new information about my daughter, I suggest you leave.”

“I don’t,” Dean said. “But it’s related to your daughter. The last time children were disappearing, you had a boy brought here, a potential victim, right?”

Blackstone’s eyes flashed.

“How do you know that?”

Dean took a step forward, looking Blackstone in the eye.

“I need you to tell me everything about what happened to him. Everything you know.”

xxxxXXXXXxxxxx

Back in his room, Sam was thinking that the one thing that was sure to help him reconcile with Dean was information. He needed to tell Dean exactly what had happened to him. Unfortunately, he could only remember bits and pieces, which were not exactly helpful. But maybe there was someone who could help jog his memory a bit.

Getting Bobby to give him Greenberg’s phone number was not exactly easy. Bobby was already suspicious about the whole thing. Getting Bobby not to call Dean and let him know Sam was about to do something majorly idiotic was even harder. Sam had to tell Bobby that he thought Dean might have been working a lead and it was best not to call him just then. Bobby eventually said he wouldn’t but advised Sam not to call Greenberg until Dean was back. Sam promised he would do his best – which was not exactly a lie, and he was sure Bobby knew it.

It took him three tries, but Greenberg eventually answered. The voice was harsh and gravelly and completely unfamiliar to Sam. But, then again, it had been a while, and Sam had only met him on that case.

“Mr. Greenberg,” Sam greeted. “I’m…I’m the Hunter Bobby Singer sent to deal with this problem in Rattigan…”

“ _And?_ ” Greenberg asked uncompromising.

“And I need to ask you some questions. About what happened then. You’re the only one I can ask.”

There was a pause, then Sam heard Greenberg’s resigned sigh.

“ _Go ahead._ ”

“You killed the boogeyman back then. And you had no suspicions there was something else?”

Even without seeing Greenberg, Sam could feel his barely-contained impatience.

“ _Look, I missed something. It wasn’t only my fault, you know. I wasn’t the only Hunter there.”_

“Right,” Sam said coldly. “Only, the other Hunter suspected something else was there. And then you…what exactly did you do then, Greenberg? Use his kid as bait?”

Greenberg’s prolonged silence made Sam wonder if he had not come on too strong. When Greenberg spoke next, his tone was all hostility:

“Only two other people knew about that. One is dead – and there’s no way John would have shared with other Hunters what happened there. So – what is it exactly that you want, Sammy?”

Sam scowled. So that was how Greenberg wanted to play this.

“I want you to tell me what happened to me back then. And about your involvement in whatever this was. What did you do to me?”

“I didn’t _do_ anything to you,” Greenberg scoffed. “Just…took advantage of the situation. You were there. You were a Hunter’s kid who could take care of himself better than regular kids – so I thought. And you would have had both John and me to intervene if things got out of hand. That’s how I explained it to your father. He broke my nose. Said next time he’d shoot me.”

Sam’s lips curled into an involuntary smile. That sounded like John Winchester, all right.

“So, I decided to try a different game,” Greenberg went on. “I set up a false lead for John one evening. And I snuck into your room while you both were at dinner and messed with some of the wards.”

“You left me vulnerable,” Sam accused.

“Maybe,” Greenberg conceded. “But your Dad didn’t want to cooperate, did he? Anyway, I was sure it was going to work. You were miserable – just like those other runaway kids. You tried to take off before. You were whining for that brother of yours any chance you got. Perfect victim, Sam. A true Hunter takes advantage of what he’s got.”

Years ago, Sam had tried to leave the Hunting life because of people like Greenberg – because he was afraid that, the longer he stayed, the more chances he had of becoming one of those cold, calculating machines that saw everything in absolutes and missed the shades of grey. Years ago he had also been worried Dean was heading down that road, too. But, somehow, despite everything, all the near misses and all the mistakes, he and Dean still managed to cling on to the shreds of their humanity. Maybe it was because they kept themselves from losing it. Maybe, what someone like Greenberg had needed to prevent him from becoming the cold bastard he was now had been a big brother.

“It was about midnight when you left the room,” Greenberg informed Sam. “I was beginning to worry, afraid that your Dad might come before my plan was set in motion. I knew I would not get another shot at you. But he didn’t. And then I saw you leave your room in nothing but your pajamas. You were walking funny. Like you were not really there.”

“Like I was hearing something?” Sam asked. “Music, maybe?”

He heard Greenberg pause.

“Come to think of it, yeah. I do remember music. Something like a flute or bagpipe, I don’t know. I figured it was someone practicing with an open window. Sound carries far at night, you know.

“Anyways, I obviously did not intend to leave you out of my sight. But you were nearly by the woods and there was suddenly this…this pack of rats between me and you. It distracted me. When I looked up, you’d vanished.”

Sam snorted.

“Some Hunter you are,” he baited Greenberg. “You lost a twelve-year-old.”

He imagined Greenberg on the other end, clutching the phone and barely containing his anger. The picture gave him an odd twinge of satisfaction.

“I’m also the guy that found you,” Greenberg said. “Two nights later. It was when we encountered the bogeyman and finally killed it, so you can’t blame me for thinking you appearing right then was connected. Anyway, that’s all I know. I found you in the woods. You were delirious by then. Talking crazy.”

Sam felt himself grow cold.

“What do you mean, crazy?”

“I don’t know,” Greenberg said. “I took you to the doc, then took off before John got there. I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in me. Funny, though. Before starting this hunt, I’d proposed a little information trade with John Winchester. He’d help me with the boogeyman, and I’d tell him the rumors I had heard – that countless dark things were talking about little Sammy Winchester and insisting there was something not right about him.”

Sam took a deep breath, telling himself not to be bothered by Greenberg’s words. That was ancient history, as far as he was concerned. It did not matter now, how things would have changed if the information about him had reached Dad earlier. Perhaps it would have changed things for the worst.

“What was I saying?” he insisted. “You’ve gotta remember something.”

There was a pause. Sam did not know if Greenberg was really trying to remember or only yanking his chain and playing with him.

“You were out of your head,” Greenberg said, at length. “Kept talking about how someone had told you it was best for everyone if you had stayed lost for good – that you had seen your future, and it was full of hell-fire.”

Sam switched off the phone without thinking. He was clutching the device in his hand, almost on the point of breaking it. He looked at it, dazed. This was where he should call Dean. He should get to his brother and ask him to be there before he tried anything else.

He pulled up Dean’s phone number, his thumb hovering over the call button. He should call. But what if Dean was still upset and refused to answer? Could Sam afford to wait? Maybe he should try and remember things more clearly first. That way, he would have something more substantial for Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm still the voice that speaks inside your head_

_The demon under your bed_

_I am the one who haunts your soul with devilish lust for fright_

_After Forever- Face your demons_

Dean sat in the Blackstones’ cookie-cut living room, his hands around a cup of coffee that he had not really wanted. Robert’s wife had made it for him and then left in a huff. She clearly thought the conversation would be a waste of her time and energy. Robert did not seem too pleased to have Dean there, either.

“I really don’t see why this is relevant,” he said. “You can’t think it’s the same person.”

“Why don’t you leave that to me to decide?” Dean asked.

Part of him felt bad. He was, essentially, stringing Robert Blackstone along. He still believed his daughter was out there, somewhere, and, until they got confirmation that the DNA in the 90-year-old corpse was, indeed, a match for Kelsey, he would keep on believing that. Dean did not like giving false hopes to grieving parents. But this was about Sam. When it came to Sam, there were a lot of lines Dean was willing to cross.

Robert tapped his fingers on his own coffee cup, thoughtfully.

“I remember it all, you know,” he said, at length. “Funny that. I was pretty young back then, at the early start of my career. But something always stuck with me.”

He got up and walked towards the window. He seemed nervous. Dean watched him carefully.

“So, I knew about the kids disappearing, but it didn’t really matter back then, you know? And I’d vaguely heard about the FBI agents staying at the Bracegirdles’ hotel – and that one of them had this scrawny twelve year old with him.”

Dean’s lips twitched involuntarily, hearing Blackstone describe Sam as “scrawny”.

“So, one night this guy shows up on my doorstep with the kid,” Blackstone went on. “Not his father. The other guy. That sent a lot of alarm bells ringing, I’ll tell you that. Anyway, guy says the kid was missing for two days and had just been found in the woods. Kid looked a state, I can tell you that. He didn’t even have shoes on, and two nights in the woods dressed as he was – well, it didn’t do him any favors.”

“What was wrong with him?” Dean asked, surprised that he could keep his tone casual, considering the subject of their conversation.

Blackstone grimaced.

“To be honest, I was sure he wasn’t going to last the night, his fever was that high.”

Dean’s hands clenched against the coffee cup. He set it on the table gently, before he broke it by accident. What had he been doing then? Had he been cozying up with Robin? Performing one of Sonny’s so-called character-building activities? Unaware that Sam had been dying, that a doctor had been certain Sam would not survive. Would he have felt it, if Sam had died? Would it had struck him, the sudden emptiness, the terrible knowledge that he was all alone? Or would he had gone on, blissfully unaware, until his father came for him to tell him Sam was gone for good?

“But…he did survive the night?”

He did not know if he was asking this to get Blackstone to start talking again, or because he suddenly needed confirmation that Sam had not died back then. That Sam was alive and well and had survived everything life had thrown at him.

“Well, I’m not one to allow a little pneumonia to challenge me,” Blackstone said. “Besides, when his father came, he made it clear if his kid didn’t survive, I’d be next. Somehow, I don’t think he was bluffing.”

“Did he say what happened to him?” Dean asked.

Blackstone resumed his seat at the table, across from Dean.

“When I say he was incoherent, I mean it. He was talking about rats – well, that’s not surprising, we were having a rat infestation back then. He was also saying that someone was not going to allow him to be found – his kidnapper, I assume. But, here’s where it gets strange. He talked a lot about someone showing him the future.”

Dean tensed.

“Tell me exactly what he said about that.”

Blackstone shook his head.

“I don’t remember it exactly…”

“Well, try!” Dean cut him off.

If Blackstone was in any way suspicious of Dean’s emotional outburst over someone who he claimed to be a virtual stranger, he did not show it.

“He was saying he knew he’d end up in hell. He said that over and over, actually. I don’t know if his family was overly-religious…”

“They weren’t,” Dean said.

He had sprung from his chair, the restless energy that had taken over him making his limbs shake. He had left Sam alone in the hotel room – he had left Sam _trying to remember_.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said curtly. “Thanks for your help.”

“He was saying a name, though,” Blackstone added. “I think I told your partner that, but I did not remember the exact name. Now I do. Dean. He was saying it repeatedly. Could it have been the person that took him? Was he trying to warn us?”

“He was calling for someone,” Dean corrected harshly. “He wasn’t trying to warn you, he just wanted someone to be there with him.”

He tried to ignore that he was on the verge of tears and firmly told himself to keep it together. It was hard, though. The image of twelve-year-old Sammy sick and in pain and calling for him while he could not be there would haunt Dean’s nightmares for the rest of his life.

Now was not the time for that, though. Sam had made it through that crisis, but he might be headed for another if he was not careful. And, if Dean had been unable to be by Sam’s side then, he’d make damn sure to be with him now.

He dialed Sam’s number, cursing when it went straight to voicemail.

“Dude, why the hell do you even have a phone, if you never answer when I call?” he snapped. “Listen, don’t do anything stupid. Actually, don’t do _anything_ at all. Just sit tight until I get back, ok? We need to talk.”

Switching off his phone, Dean ran in the direction of the hotel, desperately hoping Sam had not tried to remember anything on his own.

xxxXXXXxxxx

Sam would later justify himself by acknowledging that he had, indeed, thought about waiting for Dean to come back. However, this was about something that was taking kids. Jim Hayes might have escaped – unless the Piper had let him go – but the next child might not be so fortunate. Sam did not have time to wait. Besides, if he did remember everything, what was the worst thing that could happen afterwards?

He leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He had been here before, he just needed to remember it. He tried to recall how he had felt back then. It was the first time it had been just him and his Dad. There had been lots of quarrels, the atmosphere had been tense. And Sam had missed Dean. He was pretty sure the main reason he had been so vulnerable in the first place was because he had missed Dean – had felt lost without him, like he did not belong anywhere. The Pied Piper probably focused on the kids who felt, however briefly, that they did not belong.

Sam focused on that feeling. He hadn’t tried so hard to remember something before – not even the Hunt he did with his grandfather while soulless. Dean was probably going to blow several gaskets when he discovered how Sam was playing with fire in such a manner. But, if he got results, everything else didn’t matter. Kids were dying. It was certainly worth the discomfort.

xxxxXXXXXxxxxx

_He and Dad had one of their arguments that evening. Dad had gotten a lead and, of course, he wanted to go check it out immediately. He’d given Sam the usual spiel: stay safe, don’t go out, don’t answer the phone unless it rings with the established signal and don’t try to do anything idiotic. The last one had Sam’s hackles rising._

_“Like what?” he snapped._

_John frowned._

_“There’s no way you’re going to talk to me like that, Sam. You know like what. After all, the reason you’re here is because I can’t trust you not to disappear from Bobby’s due to some idiotic notion that’s got into your head.”_

_“I want to find my brother,” Sam snapped. “What about you?”_

_“I want to find this bogeyman, Sam,” John said sharply. “And whatever else is here. Kids are going missing and turning up dead – when they’re turning up at all. Don’t you care about that?”_

_“What about Dean?” Sam shouted, unable to keep it in any longer. “Dean’s your kid, and he’s missing! And you don’t seem to give a damn.”_

_Something dark and dangerous flashed in John’s eyes._

_“Don’t you ever say that to me again, Sam? Understand?”_

_Sam stared back at his father, undaunted._

_“Then give me a reason not to. Tell me we’re going to find Dean, after this.”_

_John’s eyes were still hard, but Sam thought his father might give in. At least, he might tell Sam where Dean was. In the end, however, John simply turned and headed for the door._

_“Watch out for yourself tonight, Sammy,” he said in parting._

_Sam shook his head._

_“Usually there’s Dean to watch out for me, you know,” he muttered._

_He wondered if he should hate himself for being a baby – but the truth was he did not feel safe. He hadn’t been able to make himself feel safe without Dean being there._

_xxxXXXXXxxxxx_

_Sam had been so upset after his fight with his father that he forgot to double check the wards before going to bed. He only remembered when he was already under the covers. Still feeling angry and rebellious, he decided not to bother. After all, Dad was bound to remind him of the error of his ways as soon as he came back from wherever he had gone._

_He must have fallen into a light doze at some point. When he opened his eyes again, it was fully dark in the room. The light outside the hotel must have winked out. It was quiet outside. Sam couldn’t even hear the dogs barking, and they had barked every night since he got there._

_The music took him by surprise. At first, he was sure he was imagining it. It sounded so faint and far away, Sam took it as the echoes of his own dream. It seemed to get closer, though. There was nothing too special about it, Sam thought. Just somebody playing the flute or some other wind instrument. He was about to lie back down and try to get some more sleep when something about the music changed. Sam had no idea what it was, but, all of a sudden, he was certain it was playing for him._

_There was a voice calling to him. Initially, Sam rebelled against it. Random voices calling to someone at night was not good news for a Hunter’s kid. Suddenly, Sam regretted very much not checking the wards. Was it his imagination, or was something scuttling outside his room?_

_His fear vanished from his mind, though, when he started to pay more attention to the sound. He thought that a voice was calling to him, urging Sam to follow the song. Sam would find what he was looking for, if he followed the song. He would find Dean._

_Sam flung the covers away from him, leaping out of bed. He was out the door before he could think more about what he was doing, nearly tripping over a stray rat. It did not even register to him. He snuck out of the hotel and crossed the street, following the song. His father’s car was nowhere in sight, and Sam was glad. He was not sure his Dad would let him go. Perhaps he would go to find Dean himself, but the music told Sam that Dad could not help. Only Sam could find Dean. Only he could rescue his brother. He quickened his pace._

_He must have been halfway across town when he registered the pain in his feet. He had left without putting any shoes on. That did not stop him, though. This was for Dean. Sam was ready to cross an entire field of rusty nails barefoot, if it meant getting to Dean._

_It did not take him long to figure out that the song was coming from the woods. That was not a good sign, he told himself. He wondered if that was where the other children had been taken. He clenched his teeth against the fear and ploughed on._

_The forest was dark around him. He could not hear anything except the flute. It was louder than before, more urgent. Then, Sam spotted the fallen tree-trunk, and the dark, bent figure, sitting there, playing a pipe. It was surrounded by rats._

_“Take me to Dean,” Sam ordered. “You said if I came to you, you could take me to Dean.”_

_His voice was trembling. He realized he was terrified and hated himself for it. Had the roles been reversed, Dean would not have been afraid._

_The figure grinned. Sam could not see its face clearly. Only the flash of white teeth and the red glow of its eyes._

_“Are you sure you’re here for Dean? Maybe you’re here for yourself.”_

_The voice was hoarse, and Sam was slightly surprised. He had expected it to sound sweet, like the flute._

_Sam took a step forward. The rats were moving away from the figure and converging around him. Sam tried to ignore the feel of their fur touching his bare feet, or their wet noses on his skin._

_“Take me to Dean. Please.”_

_ Never beg to them _ _. It had been something his father had taught Sam as soon as he had discovered he had found out about the family business. If Sam was ever in a confrontation with a supernatural entity, he was not to show weakness. He was not to plead with them. That would only reveal how vulnerable he was. But Sam w as vulnerable now. He was a child, all alone in the dark with some unknown creature, and the only thing he wanted was his big brother. And he was going to beg, if that was what it took._

_The figure advanced towards Sam. He noticed it never let go of the pipe. Distantly, he wondered why it was clutching the instrument so possessively. Then, he forgot about that as the Piper reached out a cold hand and grabbed Sam’s arm. Sem felt as if a thousand needles were stabbing him. He tried to pull away but found out he could not move._

_“Dean doesn’t want to be found,” the Piper said._

_“You’re lying,” Sam accused. “Dean won’t ever run away from us. And he’ll always want to find me.”_

_The Piper was now dragging Sam towards the fallen tree. The rats were following him like some funeral cortege._

_“He wouldn’t want to, though, if he knew what I know,” the Piper said. “I know your future, Sam. I can show it all to you. Just let me know what you want to see.”_

_Another thing John had tried to drill into his sons was that one never made bargains with the things they hunted. They lied and they twisted their deals, and everything they offered mortals came with a terrible price. But if the Piper could show him Dean – well, it didn’t hurt to try, did it?_

_“What do you know that you think Dean would not want to find me?” he asked. “Show me that.”_

_The Piper’s grip tightened and Sam winced. Dimly, he thought he should not have felt that much pain just from someone clutching at his arm. It felt as if his very soul was being twisted inside out. Then, he realized it was not from the Piper’s grip. That was only calling forth Sam’s fear and terror. But the pain came from somewhere else. It came from the future._

_And suddenly, Sam knew. He could not understand it, but he knew. He saw himself as the instrument of utter evil, saw himself bringing Dean nothing but death and ruin. Saw himself enduring torments no one had ever endured, locked somewhere with the devil himself. The flames and the pain took hold of him until Sam became part of them. Until that all-consuming torment was all Sam knew and all he would ever know._

xxxXXXXXXXxxxxx

It took him some time to register that he was on his knees, breathing heavily like he had just run to the forest and back several times. It took him even more to feel the hands clutching at his shoulders and hear the voice talking to him. It was a familiar voice, the only constant in his ever-shifting reality. The only thing he had to return to.

“Sam? C’mon, Sammy, come back to me…Sam, answer me right now, damn it!”

Dean. Dean alternating between barking orders on a tone that would have made John Winchester proud and begging Sam to remain by his side. It must be bad, Sam thought dimly, if Dean was ready to resort to pleading.

The thought of Dean so spooked was enough to make Sam pull himself back to reality. He reached out a shaky hand and clutched the arm Dean had on his shoulder. He blinked his eyes open and saw Dean kneeling in front of him, looking as though he was afraid his world was going to end then and there. Sam tightened his grip, offering and asking for comfort at the same time.

“Hey,” Sam muttered breathlessly.

Dean’s lips twitched in an involuntary show of amusement.

“Hey yourself. You OK?”

Sam took a deep breath, taking stock of himself for the first time.

“I…I think so. I mean, I’m here.”

Dean’s shoulders sagged as he tried to hide his concern. He helped Sam up and pushed him in the armchair by the window. Sam leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He was feeling more unsettled than he liked to admit.

He sat there listening to Dean moving about the room. He heard the sound of running water, then footsteps approaching him. His eyes snapped open when Dean nudged him.

“Here,” Dean said, handing him a paper cup filled with water. “Drink up, looks like you need it.”

Sam gulped the water, spilling half of it on himself, since his hands were still shaking. He was starting to feel much better, though, more anchored in the present and not being bombarded by the ghosts of his past. He looked up at his brother.

“You’re an idiot,” Dean said abruptly.

Sam let out an annoyed huff.

“Thanks. What for this time?”

Dean dragged a chair and sat down in front of Sam.

“What do you mean, for what? I walk into the room and find you hyperventilating and shaking on the floor and you have the nerve to ask me for what? What did you do, Sam? What made you think poking around in that messed-up head of yours while you were on your own would be a good idea?”

Sam could have said he had been trying to figure out what had happened with the Pied Piper and had no intention of going anywhere near the Hell wall, only he had received enough hints from Greenberg to have a pretty good guess about what he would see. Besides, he did not want to start lying to Dean again.

“I thought about waiting for you,” he admitted. “But….”

“But then decided not to,” Dean finished. “Which brings me to my initial conclusion. You’re an idiot.”

Sam shrugged. He was too tired to rise to Dean’s baiting – besides, he did not think any arguments he might have would be convincing enough in this situation.

“I went to see Blackstone,” Dean said. “We talked about you. The Piper made you see things from the future, right?”

Sam took a deep breath.

“It was more than that,” he admitted. “It was like, being offered the full experience of what would happen. And he was doing something to me while he was showing me all those things…Like, draining me, I think?”

“What, like your energy?” Dean asked. “Is that why Kelsey Blackstone returned looking as if she was ninety?”

Sam thought about it.

“More like my emotions. Terror, loneliness, shame. Everything that his visions caused me, he was feeding on them.”

He noticed Dean’s stony expression and he shook his head.

“I keep saying _he._ The thing is, I don’t really know if it _was_ a he. All I saw was a hooded figure with a multicolored cloak.”

Dean frowned at that.

“Yes, but, the Pied Piper is a dude, right? That’s what the stories say.”

“The original Pied Piper, yes. But, we’re not talking about the original here. That one had his vengeance when he kidnapped the kids of Hamelin. This one is someone else.”

“All right,” Dean said. “Let’s leave who it might be for a while. I think you should tell me everything you remember, Sam.”

xxxXXXXxxxx

Sam took a deep breath and spent the next half hour telling Dean all that he remembered about the first Hunt in Rattigan. He did not leave anything out. He talked about his attempt to run away at Bobby’s that had led to Dad taking him on the Hunt in the first place. He mentioned the overheard conversation between Bobby and John and Sam’s persistent fear that his brother was dead. That had no bearing on the Pied Piper Hunt, he thought, but now that he had started spilling his guts, he found that he could not stop.

He then went on to talk about John’s conviction that there was something more than the boogeyman and about Greenberg’s suggestion to use Sam as bait - which he eventually did, after sending John on a wild goose chase. Sam mentioned how he heard the song and had the unwavering conviction that it would lead him to Dean. He finished by mentioning the Pied Piper’s words about the future and about how Dean might not want to be found by Sam, if he knew the future. He did not talk about what the Pied Piper had showed him, though, and Dean did not press him for details, either.

After his confession, Sam felt drained. It was as if he had turned his soul inside out and laid anything bare for Dean to see. But he had never regretted showing Dean his weaknesses before. He would not regret it now.

Dean, meanwhile, had that thunderous look on his face that told the world he was about to commit murder. He moved away from the chair in a fit of restless energy.

“That bastard Greenberg,” he said through clenched teeth. “When I get my hands on him…”

Sam smiled slightly, because leave it to Dean to get fixated on that.

“Dean, he didn’t really do anything. He just…”

“Used you as bait, Sam. He put you in danger.”

“Dean, it was a long time ago,” Sam reasoned. “I was…”

“Twelve,” Dean interrupted soberly. “You were a kid and he put you at risk. How can you be sure he hasn’t done the same with other kids, too? How can you be sure he won’t in the future? Are you really willing to let someone like Greenberg walking around without warning him what happens to people of his type?”

Now that he thought better of it, of course Dean had a point.

“We can’t do anything about Greenberg just yet,” Sam said. “Let’s just focus on the Pied Piper. I think we should talk to some of the people who knew the first set of victims. Then compare it with these new victims. See what the pattern is. The Pied Piper must choose them for a reason.”

“And then what?” Dean asked. “Find the douche with a grudge against the town?”

Sam shrugged.

“Or against a specific person in town. Then at least we’ll know who we’re dealing with.”

“Our best bet is still the forest, though. That’s where the kids disappeared.”

“And that’s where the Piper probably has the most power,” Sam agreed. “We’ll have another go at the forest afterwards.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on flashback (and, maybe on any potential pre-series stories, if there’ll ever be any): Just so you know, I don’t hate John Winchester. He’s a complex character, who did what he thought was best with a crappy situation, but who could have definitely done better. He’s both traumatized his kids and helped them become the men they grew up to be (even though I think Sam and Dean more or less raised each other, their father’s influence still can’t be denied). It’s this dual nature of his that I’ll try to portray in my stories.


	7. Chapter 7

_I am the way, I will take you home, lead you astray_

_I am the way, shadows under skies, the truth and lies_

_Houses of high heaven, houses of the damned, sixes and seven_

_I am the way, darling take my hand,_

_I'll take you home, lead you astray_

_Marko Hietala – I am the way_

Sam and Dean’s next move was to talk to the people who remembered the original case. Small towns, fortunately, had long memories and there were many people who recalled what had happened more than twenty years ago. Sometimes, word of mouth could be more helpful then official archives.

Their rescue of Jim Hayes that morning had made the townspeople open up to them. It wasn’t clear if they believed the two were really FBI – and they obviously remembered two people arriving out of the blue and claiming the same thing the first time kids had started disappearing – but Sam and Dean had already shown their work yielded results. Which was the only thing the people of Rattigan cared about.

They could have gotten their answers quicker if they had split up to cover more ground. But, after Dean had burst into the hotel room to find Sam on the floor, he was not too inclined to let his brother out of his sight. Sam had huffed and rolled his eyes and protested, but he was secretly glad. He did not want to be alone, either. He had the sneaky suspicion that Dean was very much aware of that.

It was late afternoon and they were sitting at the local diner, enjoying warm food and summing up their findings.

“So, we can finally separate the kids that were taken by the boogeyman from those who were definitely taken by the Pied Piper,” Sam said.

Dean nodded.

“Right, the boogeyman took kids who were clearly on Santa’s naughty list. Truants, bullies, a few cases of animal cruelty here and there.” He paused and shook his head. “Man, kids can be worse than demons, you know.”

The corners of Sam’s mouth curled slightly upwards.

“Not if they’re raised right.” He paused and cleared his throat awkwardly, sensing Dean’s eyes on him. “So, the victims of the Pied Piper were generally good kids. Maybe a few behavioral issues here and there. They were vulnerable for one reason or another – they felt unloved at home, invalidated, lonely…”

Sam trailed off watching Dean’s features darken. He shook his head.

“Dean, look, I know I wasn’t any of that.”

Dean snorted, shaking his head in disgust that was not directed at Sam.

“You might know that _now_. You obviously didn’t know it then. And I’m the one who caused that.”

Sam looked away, suddenly fascinated by the salt-shaker on the table.

“Technically, _Dad’s_ the one who caused it,” he said cautiously. “Besides, whoever caused it, you’re the one who ended it. I still remember what you said to me at Pastor Jim’s place. It…it’s kept me going through a lot of crap.”

Dean’s face brightened.

“Really?” he asked, sounding incredibly hopeful.

xxxXXXXxxxx

_They had been at Pastor Jim’s two days when John announced he was going to leave. That was hardly unusual, their father often took on Hunts unexpectedly. Jim threw him a few loaded glances and made several hints about the importance of family, but Sam and Dean took it in their stride. It hadn’t been the first time it had happened._

_By then, Sam and Dean seemed to have settled back in their normal routine. Sam spent a lot of time helping Pastor Jim around the church and playing with some of the dogs that always seemed to find themselves around Jim’s house. Dean had renewed the connection with several boys his age who thought he and Sam were the pastor’s nephews. The brothers still did not like to be separated for too long, but that, too, was more or less normal for them._

_And then came the evening when they had their argument._

_They were brothers with a four-year age difference between them. They had fundamentally different personalities and wanted different things in life – which would later lead to them becoming the perfect hunting team, but which also caused incendiary rows between them, at times. They lived in each other’s pockets most of the time with privacy being in short supply. Of course they were going to argue. Of course they were going to shout and hurl insults at each other._

_But, if there was one thing they both knew, was never to take those fights seriously. They blew off some steam, maybe sulked a little in separate corners for the rest of the day, but the next morning they acted as if nothing had happened. It was just some stress that needed to come out, and nothing personal. No fight, however bad, had changed anything between them. They had their own ways to apologize for arguments, by doing something the other liked, or offering a favorite food as a peace offering. It worked with them more than “sorrys” ever would._

_This time, it was different. Perhaps it was because, after a two-month separation, they had both forgotten their usual ways of communicating with each other. Or maybe it was because that separation needed to be addressed, and burying it in the usual Winchester way was not going to work._

_Early that evening Sam walked into the guest room he and Dean shared to find Dean talking on the phone with their Dad._

_“So, you want me to come join you?” Dean was asking._

_Sam froze in the threshold, his hand clutching the doorknob. The previous anxiety that had vanished when he was finally reunited with Dean was back in full force. He listened to Dean’s side of the conversation with breath held._

_“Are you sure?” Dean asked, after a pause. “I could, you know…Whatever you’re after, it sounds badass…And I missed Hunting.”_

_Dean hadn’t seemed to notice Sam’s arrival. Either that or he did not care – or maybe even did not think that offering to leave was such a big deal. There was no mention of Sam being part of their expedition. The terrifying breathlessness of before was back in full force, threatening to overwhelm Sam._

_“Yes, Sir,” Dean said, sounding disappointed. “Of course, Sir…Take care.”_

_Dean hung up the phone and turned to face Sam. His expression was unreadable._

_“Are you leaving?” Sam asked, letting go of the door and taking a step inside the room._

_Dean frowned slightly._

_“Not going anywhere, Sam.”_

_He did not sound too pleased. Sam took another step into the room._

_“Why did you suggest leaving?”_

_Dean shrugged._

_“Dad might’ve needed back-up.”_

_“He can get back-up,” Sam insisted stubbornly. “He has adults for that. Bobby. Caleb. Anyone else.”_

_Dean’s eyes narrowed at Sam’s belligerent tone._

_“Why are your panties in a twist this time, Samantha?”_

_Sam stomped his foot against the ground, frustration getting the better of him._

_“I can’t believe you! We barely just arrived here and instead of reconnecting as a family, Dad doesn’t even last two days before he ups and leaves. And now you want to go too!”_

_Dean shrugged._

_“It doesn’t matter, because I can’t go, can I? Dad said I’ve got to stay here and look after your princess feelings.”_

_“Who said I need looking after?” huffed Sam. “I was alone for two months. Two months, Dean! You weren’t there!”_

_Dean hesitated. Something in the back of his mind warned him to let it go before one of them said something that would haunt them for a very long time. But Sam’s irritating, “poor me” attitude was beginning to get on his nerves._

_“And you’ve been a moody, prissy bitch ever since I got back,” he snapped. “Two months was far too short a time to be away from that.”_

_“Is that why you took too long?” Sam snapped. “I mean, the great Dean Winchester lost for two months. You wanted to stay away didn’t you?”_

_“Well can you blame me?” Dean said harshly. “After all, look at you.”_

_The fight left Sam immediately. He took a step back, his face suddenly pale, his eyes too bright. It made Dean even more irritated, although, if he was honest, part of that irritation was directed more at himself._

_“I’m going to clear my head,” he said flatly heading for the door. “Don’t wait up.”_

_He was nearly out the door when Sam called his name in a small, subdued voice. Dean pretended not to hear him._

_xxxXXXXXxxxxx_

_Dean had not intended to stay long. Even while he was leaving, he was starting to feel bad, remembering Sammy’s hurt features after his parting words. He just needed to cool off a bit – and allow Sam to do so as well. That was how it usually worked. They fought, then they separated for a bit, allowing the other to work through his anger. But, recalling the way Sam had tried to call him back, Dean was beginning to wonder if maybe this time his brother needed something else._

_Pastor Jim cornered Dean as he was about to go back to Sam and sent him for some groceries “quickly, before the store closes, you boys’ll eat me out of house and home, I swear” – and Dean of course could not say no. He didn’t mention the argument. That was something strictly between Sam and himself and they had never involved anyone else in their problems. Not even Dad, or Bobby._

_So, Dean went to do Pastor Jim’s errands and got some of the pastries Sam liked in the process. They were fresh from the oven and warm. Sam was going to love them. With his peace offering at the ready, he could face his brother once more._

_When Dean walked into the room, though, he froze. Sam was sitting in his bed pressed against the headboard, hugging his knees. He was crying._

_“Sam!”_

_Dean hastily dropped the bag of pastries into a chair and strode towards his brother. Sammy did not cry. He made noise and bitched about everything, but he did his best not to cry. Not like that. Certainly not because of some stupid fight they both knew didn’t mean anything. Or, at least, Dean had known that._

_“Sammy?” Dean asked uncertainly, his hand hovering above Sam’s shoulder, not really sure if his touch would be welcome or not._

_Sam sniffed, eyes looking anywhere but at Dean._

_“I thought you left,” he muttered._

_Dean slowly sat down beside Sam, relieved when his brother did not seem to mind._

_“I was away longer than I wanted,” he admitted. “I was actually about to come back when the Padre cornered me. But, hey, I got your favorite pastries.”_

_Sam ignored that._

_“I was so sure you were gonna disappear again,” he whispered._

_Dean shook his head._

_“Sammy, we talked about this…”_

_“We didn’t,” Sam insisted. “Not really. You never told me where you were. No one did.”_

_Dean took a deep breath. So their father had kept Dean’s whereabouts a secret from Sam, which meant he had had his reasons. Well, Dean could care less about them right now. If knowing where Dean had been those two months would put Sam’s mind at ease, then Dean was going to give that to him._

_“Hey, you remember that Boys’ Home where you got me from?” he asked casually, then went on, after Sam’s curt nod. “I was there all that time. I…uhh…got caught doing something. Cops sent me to Sonny’s. Dad was fine with it. Said it would teach me consequences and all.”_

_Sam raised his eyebrows._

_“ Dad doesn’t know about consequences,” he pointed out. “Why should you?”_

_Good question. Sam was now leaning cautiously against him, half-expecting Dean to shove him away. Which, under any other circumstances, Dean would have been tempted to do. But not after walking in on Sammy looking so vulnerable._

_“Did you…did you enjoy it there?” Sam asked cautiously. “Did you think of maybe staying there for good?”_

_Dean hesitated. He was prepared to deliver one of his usual quips. But Sam deserved the truth. Sam had deserved the truth before, even if Bobby and Dad had been keeping it for him. He took a deep breath. He’d walk through Hell for Sam. Baring his heart to him shouldn’t be so difficult, should it?_

_“It was fun,” he admitted. “The guys were cool. Sonny was cool. And there was this hot chick…”_

_Sam huffed in what Dean was pretty sure was disgust._

_“There’s always a hot chick when you’re involved.”_

_Dean sniggered, then grew serious._

_“The point is – despite all that, there was always this emptiness around me. I looked for you and realized you weren’t with me. And that made me scared. Anything could be happening to you and I would not know about it. That was terrifying, Sammy. I don’t like having you out of my sight. It often kept me awake at night.”_

_“I often felt like I couldn’t breathe,” Sam admitted, leaning more heavily against Dean’s side. “And since you came back, I’ve been wondering – what if next time, it’s because of me? What if you won’t come back, then?”_

_Dean’s arm tightened around Sam. Had his brother really been feeling like that? He cursed himself for not tackling this sooner._

_“Listen to me,” he said fiercely. “You could do anything, Sam. Make any mistakes. Hell, you could stand in front of a Hunters’ bar with a placard saying monsters are misunderstood and Hunters should leave them alone. It still won’t change who you are to me. Well, I’ll think you’re the world’s biggest idiot and tell you that, but I won’t leave your side. Because you’re Sammy. And nothing else matters, got that?”_

_He half expected Sam to object the name. He had been doing that for a while. But, it seemed that little brother had no desire to be independent right then. He looked long and hard at Dean, then broke into a smile._

_“You said you got pastries?”_

xxxXXXXxxxx

Dean eyed Sam from across the table.

“Did you still remember then? What had happened to you?”

Sam shrugged.

“I remembered going on the hunt, I think,” he admitted. “Dad had told me you’d feel much better if you thought I’d been at Bobby’s all the time. He told everyone else I was at Bobby’s too. I had no idea how he got Greenberg to shut up, though. But I think I finally understand why. If the Pied Piper had indeed showed me some of my future with Lucifer and if I’d let anything about that slip while I was delirious – well, any Hunter worth their salt would have executed me then and there.”

Dean frowned.

“Dad wouldn’t have.”

Sam nodded, patiently.

“I know he wouldn’t have, Dean. But a lot of other Hunters could have. I mean, Gordon went after me on less. If he’d have gotten wind of what had happened to me…I would have been fair game. I think you would have too, just by association. Dad was just trying to prevent that.” He paused and looked down at his hands. “By that time at Jim’s, I really didn’t remember anything about the Pied Piper, though. That he took me…or what he told me. I don’t know how I escaped him either.”

Dean got up and left some money on the table. Sam followed his lead.

“We’ll do some more research on who the Pied Piper could be,” Dean said. “Then we’ll go back to the woods tonight. As for you…maybe it’s better not to try to remember anything else. We’ve got enough.”

XXXxxxxXXXX

Sam and Dean spent the afternoon and evening in their hotel room, going over the information about the missing kids, both past and present and looking into the histories of the townspeople. The Pied Piper seemed to have hit the town at the same time as the boogeyman. Sam focused on archives from that time.

It was nine o’clock and it had gotten dark outside. Dean had just finished talking to Bobby on the phone, bringing him up to speed and trying to arrange a face-to-face with Greenberg that would have sent him back to the hospital. Sam was following a new lead. He was engrossed in whatever he was, not paying any attention to Dean’s rant to Bobby.

Something rattled outside their room, just as Dean ended their conversation. Footsteps, Dean thought, immediately on the alert. There were no other guests at the hotel – except for the judge and his fling, but by now Dean knew it was the evening when the judge and his wife had dinner with the vicar, so he wouldn’t be sneaking for some not-so-secret-fun at the hotel.

“Sam,” Dean called, his tone immediately putting Sam on the alert.

The sounds outside were more pronounced. It sounded like a hundred scuffling feet passing their door. Dean suddenly felt disgusted.

“Rats,” he realized. “Must be tens of them.”

But, as he met Sam’s horrified gaze, he wondered if that was the only thing wrong.

“You OK, Sam?” he asked.

Sam shook his head slowly.

“Dean,” he began and he sounded on the wrong side of freaked out. “Can you hear it?”

Dean frowned.

“What, the rats? Yeah, man, they’re right outside the room. Kinda hard to miss.”

But Sam shook his head furiously. Dean felt himself grow cold.

“Not the rats, Dean,” Sam said. “The music.”

Dean couldn’t hear any kind of music. In fact, he was more than certain Sam shouldn’t have been hearing it, either.

“Sam, you’re not a kid anymore,” he pointed out. “If that’s the Pied Piper, how come you’re hearing it?”

Sam shook his head vaguely. His eyes held a faraway look that immediately put Dean on the alert.

“I’ve heard it before, haven’t I?” Sam reminded Dean and there was an impersonal note in his voice Dean didn’t like one bit. “I’ve followed it before.” He paused and made a visible effort to focus on Dean. “We’ve gotta follow it,” he added.

He took several steps towards the door and Dean quickly grabbed his arm.

“Whoa! Sam, you don’t want to go there!”

Sam tried to wrench his arm out of Dean’s hold. He did not look about to turn violent though. Only irritated that Dean was holding him back.

“Dean, this is our only chance to find the Pied Piper and get the flute. Just…trust me, will you?”

Dean’s hand tightened around Sam’s arm.

“Trust you? Sammy, you’re about to follow music that could very well lead you off a cliff.”

“There are no cliffs nearby,” Sam said smugly. “Besides, you’re going with me, aren’t you? If you think I’m too deep under the influence, you can stop me. But this is our best chance, and you know it.”

Dean didn’t like it. It felt too much like what Greenberg had done to Sam all those years ago. But Sam had not known the game back then, and he hadn’t had Dean as back-up. Besides, Sam was a damn fine Hunter now. He could hold his own against the Piper. He let Sam go and took a step back.

“All right,” he said. “Lead the way.”

The corridor outside their room was dark and empty. Several rats scuttled away at their arrival. Some of them were heading towards the reception area. And Sam was following them. Dean shook his head, double-checking that his gun was loaded.

“None of this is natural,” he muttered.

They reached the reception area. The room was empty and lit by a small lamp by the door. A rat was on the front desk. There was no sign of Loretta.

“Did she retire for the night?” Dean asked. “If so, why leave the light on?”

Sam shook his head. He had stopped in the middle of the room, his eyes bright. He did not look as if he was hearing anything right now, but Dean wasn’t so sure that was a good thing.

“Loretta,” Sam said. “You know she’s descended from the original German settlers? I just found out.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, skeptically.

“What, of the German Bracegirdles?”

Sam gave him a “don’t-be-an-idiot” look.

“On her mother’s side. Her mother’s maiden name was Gärtner. I tracked the family to the founding of Rattigan.”

Dean turned to face Sam. He could not really buy that plump, sweet Loretta had anything to do with the Pied Piper. And yet, Sam had heard the music now – _after_ Dean had confirmed to her that his brother was the boy who had gotten away from the Pied Piper all those years ago.

“Sam,” he began. “Are you saying…?”

Sam suddenly stiffened, grabbing Dean’s arm in warning.

“Dean,” he hissed.

Dean tensed, his hand going to his gun. There was a thud from somewhere in the shadows. Then Dean heard a whoosh and felt a sting in his neck. He put his hand up and looked at the dart that had hit him. Another woosh and Sam staggered into him.

“Dean…” he repeated.

Dean shook his head to clear it of the sudden fog. He tried to hold Sam up, but that wasn’t easy considering his own legs felt like led. He felt to his knees. He had a brief moment of panic when he thought he could not feel Sam next to him anymore. Then, it too vanished in the swirling fog.


	8. Chapter 8

_Greetings, Master Piper,_

_The other kids and I can see you're new in town_

_It seems as though the world has got you beaten down_

_Well I'm sad to say this town will do the same_

_Heather Dale - Pied Piper_

__

The first thing Dean was aware of when he could finally make sense of things again was the pounding in his head. Everything else felt distant and numb, though, like he was experiencing someone else’s sensations. He had no idea where he was, and his eyelids were too heavy to open. He thought he was tied to a chair somewhere, but even that wasn’t enough to really alarm him.

The memories clouding his mind were vague. Strangely enough, the clearest one was about him and Bobby talking about…burger joints? That didn’t make sense, though, and Dean knew that, however much Bobby might disagree about his choice in burgers – the man had no taste, really – he would definitely not get so pissed that he’d drug Dean and tie him to a chair.

Then other images started coming to him, in pieces. Arriving in Rattigan. The Pied Piper. Rescuing Jim Hayes. Talking to doctor Blackstone. Sam.

The thought of Sam had the rest of his memories slamming back into his mind. Dean jolted, as if he had been hit head-on by a freight train. He pried his heavy eyes open. The last thing he remembered was being hit by something – drugged most likely. Sam had been telling him something about Loretta. He had been hinting that Loretta was the Pied Piper.

Dean found himself in a dark room – an attic, he thought. It was small and full of various broken household objects. Sam was several feet away, tied to a chair, just like him. His head was bent and he did not appear to be conscious. A figure was leaning over him. That cleared the rest of Dean’s clouds from his mind.

“Hey!” he shouted.

The figure turned. It was Loretta, but at the same time it wasn’t. The figure in front of him was tall, wearing this cloak that made her look shapeless. She had changed, somehow, losing the benign aspect Dean had been used to and transforming into something else. She was holding the pipe close to her.

“Hello, Dean,” she greeted, and even the voice did not sound like Loretta’s. “I was thinking you were going to sleep through all of it. Sammy woke up before you, you know.”

Dean pulled at the bonds ineffectively.

“You don’t get to call him that, you twisted bitch. What did you do to him, anyway?”

Loretta’s grin turned feral.

“You could say I wore him out,” she leered. “Sorry, Dean. I was hungry.”

Which meant she had drawn forth Sam’s negative emotions and feasted on them. And given what Sam had been through, that did not bode well at all.

“Sammy?” Dean tried, but he received no answer. His brother’s head was still bent. Dean found it hard to see if he was even alive by this point. The thought made him feel cold.

“He’s a bit indisposed right now,” Loretta said. “And I didn’t even get to the good parts. Just the old hurts. His girlfriend dying. His father disowning him because he wanted to go to college. You and him fighting in a …was that a honeymoon suite? No wonder people misinterpret your relationship.”

Dean struggled with the ropes. Loretta hadn’t touched Sam’s Wall yet. But he knew it was only a matter of time.

“Leave him alone, you bitch. He’s done, you hear me?”

“Oh, you’re right,” Loretta agreed pleasantly. “He can’t feel fear if he’s unconscious. You, on the other hand…What do _you_ have to offer me, Dean?”

Dean shook his head, still testing his bonds. They held, but maybe he could keep working on them.

“Why did you go after us, anyway? Aren’t your type usually way younger?”

Loretta laughed.

“Children’s emotions are exquisite, I’ll admit that. They turn even the smallest fears and anxieties into fixations. Kelsey Blackstone, for example. Not only was she convinced her stepmother hated her and her father had no idea she existed, she was also afraid of growing old and dying all alone. Pretty complex for her age. Well, I took advantage of that fear. Jim Hayes was more disappointing, though. He might have been a little insecure, but when I tried to convince him his parents loved his baby sister more than him, he shut me down. That’s why he escaped me in the end. There was no substance to his fear.”

Loretta paused. She glanced back at Sam, who still had not moved, then turned to Dean.

“Now, your brother – he had _a lot_ of fears. And when I realized who he was supposed to be…I knew I was in for a feast. I would have kept him, too. I would have drained him.”

“Let me guess,” Dean said smirking. “Sammy got out.”

Loretta’s smile faded.

“Unfortunately, I could not make him lose his faith in you completely,” she admitted. “That sustained him.”

Dean was sure that bit of information was going to keep him happy for years to come. If he got out of this mess, of course.

“What’s your problem anyway? What did this place ever do to you? Can’t you solve your grudges in a civilized manner instead of becoming something that gorges on kids’ negative emotions?”

Loretta’s fists clenched around the flute.

“I wanted a life for myself!” she cried. “I wanted to make myself the priority for once. But my parents had this useless hotel, passed on from generation to generation, and guess who was set up to carry the legacy? My sister was allowed to leave town. She married some guy and lived her life in New York, far from here, had kids and a job. I wanted those, but I had to stay here. The family business, you see.” She paused and eyed Dean speculatively. “Perhaps, you _do_ see. You resented Sam when he went to Stanford, didn’t you?”

Dean chose to ignore that. Whatever resentment there had been, he was pretty sure he hadn’t taken it out on innocent kids.

“And I thought I was going to get out, you know?” Loretta went on. “I was young. I met this guy. He promised to take me away. Turns out he was using me to get the hotel. He broke my heart – and everyone in town, when they found out, they couldn’t stop judging me.”

Dean kept working at his bonds. He thought that, if he could keep Loretta distracted and talking, he might be able to take her by surprise. At least, it would keep her away from Sam a little longer.

“So how did you do it, anyway?” he asked. “What gave you the idea to become the dude with the flute? Not that I’m judging or anything…”

Loretta smiled.

“I found some things in my mother’s stuff. Things from my forbearers. Including the pipe. Funny how no one realized what it was…”

She put the pipe to her lips and blew a shrill note. Rats scuttled from the corner of the dark attic. They made Dean’s skin crawl.

“Now,” Loretta said, turning to Dean. “What can _you_ give me?”

Dean pulled at the bonds until his wrists felt raw. Loretta was in front of him, now. She placed one hand on his forehead. There was a strange, cold sensation, then Dean felt his memories being drawn out of his brain. All the bad stuff: Dad and Sam dying and Hell and Stull cemetery and the loneliness of after. It all came flooding into his mind.

Dimly he heard someone screaming. It took him a while to figure out it was him. He had forgotten where he was. He had forgotten Loretta and even Sam. All he knew was the agony of every dark moment in his life.

There was a mist gathering in the corners of his eyes. It threatened to engulf him, and Dean struggled against it. He did not want to leave Sam vulnerable to Loretta’s influence. It was getting harder and harder to focus. Soon, there was nothing Dean could do. He let the world go dark around him.

xxxXXXXxxxxx

“Dean? Dean! Dean, wake up.”

Dean really did not want to wake up. His head felt like somebody was performing a seriously sick drum solo inside his skull. He was tired and out of it, all his energy sapped from him in a way he could not quite explain. Unconsciousness would be much better for a while, he was sure. Certainly, it would be less painful.

“C’mon, Dean. Wake up already.”

That was Sam, and he sounded frightened and about ten years younger than he really was. It was enough to have Dean fighting to wake up. He pried open his heavy eyelids and tried to raise his head.

Sam was still bound in his chair, only he was alert and less pale than before. There was no sign of Loretta.

“How come we’re alone?” he asked.

Sam shrugged.

“I don’t know. I woke up a while ago. You’ve been…I tried calling you, but you’ve been unresponsive all this time. Did she…did she make you see things?”

Dean started working on his bonds again. Loretta had not checked them while he had been unconscious. She had probably not realized he had started loosening them. Well, he was nearly shredding his wrists while doing so, but he would take it if it meant getting out of there. Right now Loretta was gone. But, if she came back, Dean was sure she would go straight for Sam. After all, Dean was only the appetizer. Sam and what was behind his Wall were the main course and desert all in one.

“Listen to me,” he told Sam. “If we’re still here when she comes, I want you to pretend to be still out.”

It was too dark for him to make out Sam’s expression fully, but Dean knew his brother enough to be aware Sam was frowning at him.

“Why? So she can go to you? Dean, I’ve been trying to reach you for what felt like hours. She took a hell of a lot out of you.”

“Sam, if she feeds on you she goes straight for the Hell-wall,” Dean reasoned. “I’m not losing you to some heartbroken hag who works out her issue by feeding on other people’s crappy memories.”

As if to prove his point, Dean wrenched his hands harder. The rope gave way. If only their luck held for once.

“Come on, come on, come on…” he muttered.

Sam looked at him curiously.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Dean snapped. “You wanna hang around here longer than necessary?”

“Not really,” Sam admitted. “But she tied us good, Dean. I can’t move my hands at all. You?”

“I think she was less zealous with me,” he said. “Must have a grudge against you. You did escape her once, after all.”

Sam said nothing. Dean focused on his bonds. His hands were going numb. On the plus side, he did not think it would take him too long to finally get free.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he grinned when he felt the rope loosening.

He bent and quickly got to work on the rope holding his legs to the chair. The position made him dizzy and he had to swallow against the nausea. No good for Sam finding out that whatever the Pied Piper had done to him, the result was that he was not exactly functioning at 100%.

Dean got up and had to quickly grab the chair as the ground tilted beneath him. For a moment, Sam’s panicked calls came from far away. Dean took several deep breaths and the fog around him lessened slightly. At least he could stand up without falling flat on his face now. Mostly.

“I’m good, Sam,” he said smirking. “I’m awesome.”

“Like hell you are,” Sam retorted. “You were about to keel over like some swooning damsel.”

Dean glared at his brother.

“Hey, need I remind you which of us is still tied up and needing to be rescued, princess? And I’m fine. Just got up to fast, that’s all.”

“I’m sure that’s all it was,” Sam muttered flatly.

Dean scowled. There were times when he seriously wished Sam had not learned sass from him. Other times, he would not have his brother any other way.

The spell of dizziness was gone and Dean’s headache dropped to a more manageable level. He let go of the chair and made his way to Sam. He had to sidestep several dead rats as he did so. He wondered if the fact that they were dead was significant.

Sam’s bonds were tighter than his had been. Maybe Loretta had done it out of practical reasons, after all, Sam w _as_ taller than Dean, however much Dean pretended most of the time it was not so. Or maybe it had been personal. Loretta had to be pissed that Sam had escaped her all those years back.

“Done,” Dean said when he finally managed to untie Sam’s hands and set to work on his legs.

Sam hissed and rubbed his numb wrists.

“We should get the hell out of here before she comes back,” he said.

“That’s the plan,” Dean said, helping Sam up.

Of course, with how dizzy Dean still was, it was hard to tell which of them was actually holding the other up.

Sam was looking around him, a strange, tight expression on his face.

“Dean, I know this place,” he said. “I think she took me here before. I think that’s where she kept me, before she cut me loose.”

Dean shook his head quickly.

“She didn’t cut you loose, Sam. You escaped. She told me. You got yourself out. Now, the question is how.”

He watched as Sam’s face took on a puzzled expression.

“I did get myself out,” Sam said. “Eventually. I…kinda remember now.”

xxxXXXXxxxx

_Sam woke up trembling. He was freezing, as if he had lain for hours somewhere in the snow. He had vague memories of the Piper and the things he had been shown. His future, so the Piper had told him. The thing he was supposed to become. What would happen to him. The reason he should surrender to the Piper and give up the idea of making his way back to Dean._

_He was in some kind of attic, messy and dark. The kind of place where ghosts liked to hide, Dean had told him once. Sam closed his eyes tight. It seemed that every thought, every memory of his led to Dean, one way or another._

_Sam remembered what the Piper had told him. That Dean would not want to be anywhere near him, if he knew what was in store for Sam. And Sam had allowed himself to believe that. Just as he had allowed himself to fall completely into the Piper’s clutches._

_He did not know how much time had passed since his argument with his Dad and the music he had decided to follow. He was sure the Piper had fed on him twice, always showing him the same images of doom and hellfire. The same images that were flashing in his mind right now._

_“What if it won’t happen?” Sam asked himself. “Or what if it will happen if I don’t get out of here? What if by staying here I turn into something else? Something that could harm Dean?”_

_The thought made him shiver worse than the cold. He had to get out of there. He had to find his father, if only to tell him that he had found out he might be a danger to Dean. A danger to them all._

_There were two doors. One of them was blocked by several pieces of furniture. There was no way Sam was going to push them back on his own. He made his way towards the other door, on the opposite end of the room. He steadfastly did not look at the dead and dying rats he could see in the room. Why were they dying, anyway? When the Piper had been there, they had been alive and active._

_Sam opened the door. He was looking at a long corridor. It looked dark and threatening. But there were no rats and no other dangers. Sam would have to take a chance and run for it._

_He bolted out the door and ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He ignored everything – the exhaustion, the cold, the pain in his bare feet. He was John Winchester’s son and Dean Winchester’s brother. And he knew how to push through the pain._

_Sam ran until he reached a flight of stairs. He stopped, panting slightly, holding on to the banister. He was dizzy and breathless. He thought he must be coming down with something – not surprising, he had been freezing ever since he had left his hotel room. But that did not matter now. All that mattered was getting out and getting to Dad._

_He was halfway down the stairs when he heard it again. The music, calling to him. Telling him he was a danger to his family. Telling him he was saving himself by staying where he was. Urging him to return, because that was the only way he could Dean happy – if Sam stayed away from him._

_Sam wavered. The music was too much for him. And if that was really the way to help Dean…? After all, Dean had disappeared no one knew where, and what if Sam had been the cause? What if the reason Dad and Bobby were not telling him anything about Dean’s whereabouts was because they did not know how to tell Sam that Dean did not want to be near him anymore?_

_He had half turned to make his way back up the stairs, even though he knew there would be no escaping the next time. Something changed in him, then. He remembered Dean the day he had disappeared. How he had smiled at him and ruffled his hair and said “See you soon, Sammy” right before walking out the door. Just as he had always done. And Sam did not want to believe that it had all been pretend and Dean had known he would not be coming back to Sam. Because there was one thing the monster upstairs did not seem to know: Dean always came back to Sam._

_He turned and bounded down the stairs. The music was growing fainter. There were rats all around him, though, biting his ankles, tripping him. Sam slipped and fell to his knees at the foot of the stairs. Yet he kept moving, kept staggering, knowing that, if he escaped that place, he might have a chance._

_Outside, the forest waited for him, silent and menacing._


	9. Chapter 9

_Tip the reaper to ensure_

_The blade is sharp,_

_As soon we'll go._

_Follow me into the dark_

_To the birth of everything_

_Nightwish – Endlessness_

Sam looked at the two doors. They were the same as before. The furthest one was clear. The other was blocked by a lot of stuff that would be difficult to move. But he wasn’t twelve this time and he wasn’t alone. He made for that door.

“Help me move these,” he told Dean, who was watching him in confusion.

“Any reason why we’re not taking the other door?” he asked.

Sam was pleased to notice that despite his confusion, Dean was by his side ready to help move the furniture.

“I left through there the first time,” he said. “You can get out from there, true. But I’m thinking, this door is blocked for a reason. Maybe there’s something here Loretta doesn’t want us to find.”

Dean nodded and they both set to work. The furniture was heavy, and they were exhausted. It was going more slowly than they would have liked.

“We’re not at the hotel, by the way,” Sam informed Dean. “I remember this place being in the forest. It’s got to be the summer house.”

Dean frowned as he pushed aside the last of the furniture. He had to lean against the wall to steady himself.

“There’s a summer house?”

“There was,” Sam said. “Or, at least, that’s what it was supposed to be. One of Loretta’s ancestors thought it would be a good addition to the hotel. Build this sort of lodge in the woods for guests who wanted the full nature experience. It didn’t take.”

“I wonder why,” Dean muttered sarcastically. “And now Loretta’s using it as her personal kitchen?”

Sam nodded tersely.

“There’s something else I wanted to tell you last night, before we were taken. Dean, she didn’t stop.”

Dean tilted his head. Sometimes, Sam had this habit of having an entire conversation in his head and allowing Dean to hear only the tail end of it.

“What do you mean? I noticed she hasn’t stopped, Sam. She picked up the nasty habit of kidnapping children after a rest period of nearly twenty years.”

Sam shook his head quickly.

“That’s just it, Dean. There wasn’t a rest period. I managed to hack my way through some pretty confidential information, but Loretta’s part of this volunteer group that help victims of domestic violence and runaway kids. They come to her, she shelters them for a while at the hotel, then sends them on to the next stop. Or, she sends some of them on.” He paused and swallowed harshly. “Some of them she keeps. I’m guessing traumatized victims, that’s got to keep her fed, right?”

Dean’s face had taken on a look of utter distaste.

“I’m gonna take great pleasure shooting the bitch.”

“You know she’s essentially human, right?” Sam reminded. “I mean, yes, she can become the Pied Piper but…she’s pretty much human otherwise.”

Dean scowled and Sam knew he had said the wrong thing.

“Sam, she’s preying on vulnerable kids. We’ll destroy the pipe, but if we also have to take her out – we’ll take her out.”

Sam watched the tightness in Dean’s face and knew there were some things his brother could not overlook. He nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “I get you. Now let’s get out of here.”

They opened the door and nearly toppled down the steep flight of stairs leading from the room. There was only a thin rope serving as a banister. The stairs looked rickety and unsteady.

“Yeah, I’m really surprised tourists did not flock to stay at this place,” Dean remarked. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in danger of falling to their deaths every time they leave their rooms?”

Sam snorted.

“Some people enjoy the idea of a little danger. It makes them feel brave.”

Dean’s scowled intensified.

“Then they should come hunt with us. Let’s see how they like danger then. What do you think’s down there?”

Sam shrugged.

“Hopefully a way out. And something that will tell us more about Loretta. About how she became the Pied Piper.”

Dean nodded. Looking down at the steep flight of stairs made his head swim.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s do this. You stay behind me.” He paused and added quickly, afraid Sam might protest his mother hen routine. “Watch my back, right?”

xxxXXXXXXxxxxx

They moved down the stairs quietly. So far, there was no sign of Loretta. She was probably back at the hotel, though. It must have been late morning by now.

The stairs led them to a large room. The windows were covered by dark curtains. Sam drew them back, blinking in the sudden light. His eyes widened as he realized where exactly they were.

The room was like the perfect sanctuary for a witch. There were arcane signs on the walls and on the floor. By the door there was a painting hanging of the Pied Piper, perhaps the original one, leading away a couple of children. There were dusty old books on one of the tables. Sam picked one up and frowned.

“Wow,” Dean whistled taking in the symbols, the half-burnt incense, the strange rectangular boxes arranged in a circle around the room. “I think we’ve found Loretta’s naughty place.” He stopped and glanced at Sam. “What’s in there?”

Sam flicked through the book, frowning.

“It’s a spell-book of some sort written in some Germanic language. Probably Gothic, would be my guess.”

“So, what’s it say?” Dean asked.

The corners of Sam’s mouth tilted upwards. Sometimes, he had to wonder what his brother thought of him. Times like these, however, he was warmed by how much faith Dean had in him. It felt at times as if Dean thought he could perform miracles.

“I’m flattered that you think I can read it, but no. I can maybe recognize a word or two. Something about death and bound to spirits…whatever that means.”

“Nothing good, I’ll bet,” Dean commented.

Sam turned a few more pages.

“There are some drawings of rats here, as well. I’m guessing this belonged to the original Pied Piper.”

“Well, take it with you,” Dean told him. “Bobby might be able to make out more of it. Maybe he’s got a contact who can translate it.”

Sam pocketed the book. He noticed the frown on Dean’s face.

“You’ve got something,” he discovered.

Dean shrugged. He was sometimes reluctant to share his theories, allowing the research spotlight to fall onto Sam. But Sam knew Dean had a unique way of spotting connections that had gotten them out of tight spots more times than he could count.

“More of a puzzle for you, really,” Dean said. “When I got loose, did you notice the rats in that room Loretta took us?”

“They were all dead,” Sam said. “They were dead when I was captured the first time, too… when I woke up and got free. All the rats were dead.”

Dean nodded quickly.

“Yeah, but they were all alive and well when Loretta took us. They were alive when she took Jim Hayes as well…”

Sam’s eyes widened.

“When I was trying to escape the first time, they were back again. Loretta was trying to get me to return and the rats…they were everywhere.”

Sam looked around the room. There were no rats there now, which probably meant Loretta wasn’t close.

“So,” he summed up. “The rats die after she feeds. How? Why?”

“Maybe she’s not feeding only to deal with her grudge,” Dean said. “Maybe that’s just part of the price. What if one becomes a Pied Piper by making some kind of deal? Binding themselves to some force.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve seen this,” Sam agreed.

“Or,” Dean added, “What if the deal was that she had to become the Pied Piper? I mean, I’m sure no one enjoys living surrounded by rats twenty-four seven and having to replenish your energy be feeding off kids’ nightmares.”

“Why did she do it, then?” Sam asked.

“She told me she got jilted once,” Dean said. “How much do you want to bet that guy’s a doornail right now?”

Dean stopped, his eyes widening. Then, his face wrinkled in distaste.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“Loretta said something else, while you were out. She was trying to get me to empathize with her or whatever. And she said that while she had to take on the family business, her sister got to move to New York and live the life she wanted – family, kids, the lot.”

“Didn’t she hint that her sister was dead the first time she saw us?”

“Right, but her sister was younger than her, otherwise she would have been the one inheriting the business, not Loretta. How much do you want to bet her death was not natural causes?”

Loretta had made a deal that turned her into the Pied Piper, in exchange for revenge on the man who had betrayed her – and on her family. The last bit was enough to put her on Dean’s kill list forever. Dean always believed there was a special place in Hell for people who betrayed their families. Sam understood why. Dean was the self-appointed protector of his own little family. The idea that someone might willingly harm theirs was something that he could not fathom.

Sam cleared his throat and turned his attention to the crates. There were a lot of them, most of them shut, although he did notice a few were not. He got closer and read a name. When he pushed the crate open, he nearly gasped at what he found there.

“Dean!” he called frantically, his stomach twisting at the sight.

There were bones there, human bones, too small to belong to an adult. Sam remembered then where he had seen the name before.

“It’s one of the first victims,” he said. “Dean, she’s keeping the bodies here.”

He glanced at the other crates. There was one with Kelsey Blackstone’s name on it. It was empty.

“There’s one for each of her victims,” Sam discovered.

He took several pictures, planning to check out the names later. He would be making anonymous calls to the children’s families. Maybe there were people still looking for them.

He realized suddenly that Dean was being unusually quiet. He glanced at his brother to find him standing in front of one of the crates.

“Dean?” Sam asked uncertainly.

Dean acted as if he had not heard him. That sent Sam’s alarm bells ringing. He approached his brother and glanced at the crate. It was open and there were no bones inside, and for a moment Sam could not understand what had Dean so freaked out. Then, he noticed the name on the crate: _Sam._

Distantly, Sam knew it should have bothered him. The idea that he had come so close to dying, that the Pied Piper had gone so far as to prepare a coffin for him. But death had come and gone for him more than once, and Hell had come and gone, too, although he could not remember it. One more near death experience that he had barely even remembered until today was not going to affect him that much.

It was different with Dean, though and Sam could see it in his brother’s stricken face. The idea that he was looking at what was supposed to be twelve-year-old Sam’s final resting place was probably hitting Dean much harder than Sam, bringing forth all the panic and guilt.

Tentatively, Sam placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder, half-expecting his brother to reject the comfort.

“Dean…” he began gently.

Sam did not know whether to feel relieved or worried that Dean did not push him away. Perhaps Dean needed a tactile reminder that Sam was alive, that no matter how many times he had lost his brother, Sam had always managed to return. And Sam _would_ always try to return – if it was the last thing he did.

Dean seemed to come back to the present. He glanced at Sam and nodded. Something hardened in his face.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said.

Sam could not agree more.

xxxXXXxxxx

They found their way out of the house and were now standing in the forest. It was cloudy outside and slightly cold. It had to be early noon by now.

“So, what now?” Sam asked. “I mean, we can’t exactly waltz back into the hotel.”

“We won’t waltz in,” Dean said. “We’ll try to get in through the back. Create a diversion or something. And hope no one catches sight of us.”

They would be really lucky if that happened. But they needed to get back to the car. It was better if they were armed when they confronted Loretta.

“I just hope she didn’t try anything with my baby,” Dean said. “Good thing I parked her in the back this time.”

Loretta would probably keep the car there a few more days, planning to drive it away and either hide it or stage an accident. Hiding it was her best bet, though. After all, people passed through Rattigan all the time and never stayed long. No one there would be surprised when they failed to see Sam and Dean again.

The two kept walking until they reached the tree where they had found Jim Hayes. Sam suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

“Dean, that tree,” he said. “I knew it looked familiar.”

Dean nodded impatiently.

“Yeah, Sam, we’ve already established you were here before.”

Sam shook his head. He made for the tree and bent down. There was a hollow there, big enough for a child to fit inside. Sam reached out and touch the damp leaves. The smell of grass and dirt made him gag.

“I hid here that night,” he went on. “After I escaped, this is where I hid.”

“This is where Jim Hayes hid too,” Dean pointed out. “It’s a good hiding place for a kid.”

Sam refused to move away from there. This was important. He could feel it. There was something he was missing. Something he had not remembered yet.

“I hid here for a very long time,” he said. “And it was cold…I think I fell asleep at some point., and when I woke up it was so very cold…I was freezing.”

Dean’s hand on his shoulder shook him from his memories.

“OK, Sam, enough,” he said firmly. “You’ve remembered enough. You don’t need to poke anymore. It doesn’t matter.”

“No, Dean, I think it does. I think I might remember something that will help us deal with Loretta.”

He could feel Dean was not convinced, and he knew his brother was waiting to start arguing again.

“Trust me,” Sam pleaded, and he knew that was a low blow after everything they had gone through. “You do, don’t you?”

Dean’s jaw clenched.

“I trust you in most things,” he admitted. “Your instinct of self-preservation is not one of them, though. But I’ll bite, this time. What happened here?”

Sam bent down to have a better look at the hollow. He was secretly glad Dean was sticking close. While he knew he needed to remember this last piece of the puzzle, he did not think he would have been able to face it on his own.

xxxXXXXxxxxx

_Sam woke up shivering. The hiding place he had found did not offer him much protection from the elements. He blinked up, dazed, and noticed it was late evening. He was sure it was still night when he had escaped his captor. He must have lost some time, then, but he did not know how much._

_His thoughts were muddled. He knew he had to get out of there and find his Dad, but, at the same time, he was afraid of what would happen when he did. There was something he needed to tell Dad, about the thing that had taken him, which was definitely not a boogeyman. And something about Sam himself. He did not really remember what, though. His brain felt like it was working too slow._

_Sam crawled out of the hollow, shivering so hard he could barely stand. His limbs felt like led, but his forehead was burning. Something caught in his throat and he started coughing. Nothing about his condition was good. He needed to get to safety and fast._

_A rustling of leaves somewhere behind him had Sam ducking back into his hiding place. He waited with breath held hoping it was not some wild animal that had caught his scent. But it wasn’t. It was the thing that had taken him, moving purposefully through the forest. It did not seem to have noticed Sam._

_Sam hesitated. He could try to find the way out of the forest on his own – but he did not think he would be too successful. Or, he could follow the thing. His Dad always said to take every opportunity you had to gather information. Sam could do that. His Dad was probably already furious that Sam had left the room. The best thing Sam could do right now was not return empty-handed. Information about the thing they hunted would mollify John, if only a little._

_The figure seemed to move deeper into the forest. Sam tried his best to keep up and stay quiet. By the time they reached a clearing, Sam was panting and shivering, dizzy with exertion. He hid under some bushes and watched as the figure moved towards a stone slab, an improvised altar, Sam thought. The creature set the pipe on top of the altar and stood there, waiting._

_The wind picked up and Sam watched horrified as a foggy shadow seemed to morph in front of the altar. It took on a shape similar to the thing that had taken Sam. It had the same strange cloak and the same unreal quality. Only, this one was much bigger and, Sam sensed, much older. There was something incredibly evil there in the clearing. Sam thought of running, but it was too late. If he made a move now, they would hear him._

_The newcomer picked up the pipe from the altar. He looked at it, then shook his head and handed it back to Sam’s kidnapper, who drew a step back._

_“What?” it said and the voice was a woman’s voice, one that Sam found vaguely familiar although he could not quite place it. “But, you promised…I held my end of the bargain. Now you hold yours!”_

_The figure still held the pipe. Rats were creeping out of unseen hollows, surrounding the woman. She hesitated, then took back the pipe._

_“Fine,” she said. “You’re right. I let one escape. I’ll keep working on it, shall I?”_

_The thing in front of the altar disappeared. Sam remained there, dazed, as he watched the woman move away, surrounded by rats. Before he could gather his thoughts, she too had gone._

_It took Sam a while to start moving again. He did not know where he was going, only had a vague recollection of where the edge of the forest should be, but his sense of direction was out of whack along with everything else. By then, he was staggering and coughing every few feet and wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest somewhere. He did not really know why he was on his feet anymore. There was only the vague notion that Dean would not have given up so easily, had he been in Sam’s place._

_He did not know how long he kept it up. He stopped several times and maybe passed out once. It was still dark outside, but he had no idea if it was the same night or another one._

_Suddenly, something yanked him roughly by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Sam struggled, kicking and biting at whoever was trying to hold him immobile. That sent him into another fit of coughing. He heard a muffled curse from whoever was holding him and he was grabbed by both shoulders. When Sam’s head was clear enough, he could recognize Greenberg._

_“You have no idea the trouble you put me through, kid,” he growled. “Thank God that father of yours put the boogeyman down before it could get you.”_

_Sam shook his head quickly. He did not understand half of what Greenberg was saying, but he knew what had taken him had been no boogeyman._

_“It’s something else,” he said. “She…there’s a house…and an altar. She’s got rats following her…”_

_Greenberg eyed him in distaste._

_“Just my luck. You’re so delirious you don’t even know what planet you’re on anymore. Best get you to the doc. Maybe he can patch you up before Winchester sees you.”_

_“No, listen…” Sam tried to say._

_Greenberg would not let him speak, grabbing his arm and dragging him along at a speed that made Sam breathless. The fog of confusion was threatening to take hold of Sam again. He was cold and in pain and the only thing he wanted he could not get._

_“You’re not Dean,” he told Greenberg accusingly. “Where’s Dean?”_

_At any other time, Sam would have hated himself for acting like a five-year-old. Now, he was simply too wrung out to pretend he didn’t need his brother._

_“Don’t know, don’t care,” Greenberg snapped. “If I was Dean, though, I’d sure as hell be tired of your whining. Now pick up the pace, kid._


	10. Chapter 10

_It's a place where a wish will be granted_

_Come, you'll see I'm right_

_It's a force that will live on within you_

_Dark as day is light_

_Epica- Sancta Terra_

Sam strode through the forest, Dean following without complaining. He had listened to Sam’s account of an altar and what had happened there, and while he had no idea what this new development meant, he trusted Sam’s memories.

“So, what are you hoping to find?” he asked. “You think Loretta’s there?”

Sam shook his head.

“I doubt she’ll be here in daytime. And since all reports have the Pied Piper attacking only after dark, I think we’re safe for now.”

They walked on until they reached the clearing. The stone slab was still there.

“Someone’s been tidying the place up regularly,” Dean observed. “The slab should be covered by grass and leaves, but someone’s been taking care of it.”

“Like an altar,” Sam completed. “Or some place of sacrifice.”

Dean frowned.

“Yeah, I’m not liking that one bit.”

“You know,” Sam said. “I _told_ Greenberg what was happening. I told him it was a woman, I tried to describe her…he thought I was delirious or making it up or whatever. If only I’d have gotten him to take me seriously then, we wouldn’t be here now.”

Dean wanted to grab Sam by the shoulders and shake him. Hard. Maybe he’d knock some sense into his brother like that, so that he’d realize he was definitely not responsible for an asshat like Greenberg using him as bait, losing him to a monster, and then refusing to believe Sam on top of that.

“Just one more reason to tear up his intestines,” Dean muttered.

Sam looked puzzled, not quite catching his words.

“What was that?”

Dean shook his head quickly.

“Never mind.”

He did not want to involve Sam in his plan to take revenge on Greenberg. He knew Sam would never approve for one thing.

They made their way towards the altar. There were carvings on the stone. Sam bent down to take a better look.

“Is that more Gothic?” Dean asked from behind.

Sam frowned.

“No, it’s actually a mixture of German and Latin. There were quite a few texts in the Middle Ages that mixed languages like that. The _Carmina Burana_ for example has some parts where it mixes Latin with French or Medieval German.”

Dean snorted.

“You know, sometimes I wonder how someone like you doesn’t have chicks flocking all around you. Then you open your mouth and reveal just how much of a nerd you are. So…can you read it?”

“Why?” Sam quipped. “So you can call me a nerd again?”

Dean chuckled, feeling lighthearted for the first time since finding out Sam had nearly died at the hands of the Pied Piper.

“Sammy, I don’t need to call you a nerd for you to be one.”

“That’s really mature, Dean,” Sam said, his focus on the inscription. “And I’m pretty sure I can read the Latin bit. Could make a guess at the rest, too, I suppose.”

“And?” Dean prompted.

He waited in silence as Sam ran his hand over the writing.

“It’s something about a Rat-catcher….I’m guessing the original Pied Piper? I think this is an altar to him. It’s says something about keeping him bound to the town…and keeping some source of power from him.”

Sam got up abruptly, turning to look at Dean, his eyes lit up.

“Dean, I think I’ve got it,” he said. “Loretta made a deal with the original Pied Piper. You know, to get rid of the guy who jilted her or of her family or both. And in exchange, she had to _become_ him. The pipe, that’s his. That’s the original pipe he used to draw the kids of Hamelin. I think, when enough energy from the kids is contained in it, Loretta can set him loose.”

Dean glanced at the stone, feeling a sudden sense or wariness.

“You’re saying the Pied Piper is a prisoner here?”

Sam nodded quickly.

“One of the original settlers must have had the pipe. Maybe they did not know what it was and found out too late. Maybe they had been tasked to keep it with them, keep the Pied Piper bound, so when they emigrated, they had no choice but to carry the pipe with them. They probably figured, as long as they kept him bound, nothing would happen.”

“And they did not imagine a crazy hotel manager discovering the secret and trying to use the Pied Piper to take revenge,” Dean completed scowling. “All right, so I’m guessing if we burn the altar, we might solve the problem.”

“Only if we burn the pipe first,” Sam said getting up.

So, they still needed to find Loretta, hopefully before she did something stupid.

“Out of curiosity,” Dean said. “What happens if the Pied Piper does get free?”

Sam’s face turned grim.

“I’m guessing his first move is to destroy Rattigan. Loretta, too, probably. He might not be one for gratitude. Then, probably move on to bigger things.”

Dean nodded. He had thought the same.

“Well, we’re putting a stop to him. Let’s go.”

Sam nodded and turned away. Then, Dean noticed in concern as his brother’s expression changed into one of confusion and then of pain. Sam tried to take a step forward then toppled down, calling Dean’s name.

Dean saw the thick vines winding themselves around Sam’s legs, keeping him still. Sam struggled to break loose, but whatever was keeping him in place was too strong. Dean ran back to Sam and tried to help. More vines sprang up from around the grave, trying to catch Dean.

His first reaction was to reach for the gun, only to remember that Loretta had been careful to disarm them. But Loretta did not know Hunters. Like many others, she had missed the knife Dean usually kept hidden in his boot. He used it now to hack at the vines. It was slow work and many were springing up all around them.

Finally, he was able to get Sam free and pull him up, half dragging him away from the clearing. The vines were apparently confined to the place where the altar was.

“Damn!” Dean exclaimed. “That was a close one.”

Sam nodded, leaning against a tree.

“Guess he does not like us planning to get rid of him once and for all,” he said.

Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder.

“Let’s get back into town,” he said. “The sooner we can get to our stuff, the quicker we can put an end to him – _and_ Loretta.”

xxxXXXXxxxx

Dean and Sam got back into Rattigan without much trouble. They had meant to find a way to sneak into the hotel without passing reception, but it turned out not to be necessary. Loretta was not there. Lisa, from the corner store, was manning the desk, one of her cats lounging nearby.

“Oh, hello boys,” she said. “Ms. Bracegirdle had an urgent doctor’s appointment. She told me to man the fort. Let me know if you need anything, right?”

“A doctor’s appointment?” Sam asked, his tone laced with concern. “I hope it’s not serious.”

Lisa shrugged.

“I doubt it. I’ll let her know you’re concerned when she gets back. She’ll be touched.”

“I bet,” Dean muttered darkly.

He led Sam out of the reception and stopped when he was sure they were out of hearing.

“Listen, wherever Loretta is, whether she thinks we’ve escaped or not, I don’t think she’s expecting us to be ballsy enough to come back to her hotel. She won’t look for us here.”

“What do you want to do?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded to a door on which _Private. Staff only_ was written.

“How much do you want to bet that leads to Loretta’s room?”

They made their way to the door and pushed it open. It led down a small corridor. The first two rooms were a kitchen and a laundry room. The last one had to be Loretta’s room, then.

The place was disappointingly normal. Not that they had expected another shrine to the Pied Piper. Loretta obviously kept that in the summer house, away from prying eyes. This room was just a front. A façade just like Loretta’s warm personality.

The two ruffled through the room trying to find something useful. There was no sign of the flute.

“It makes sense I suppose,” Sam said ruefully. “She’s probably carrying it with her.”

Dean stopped in his tracks. He remembered the day of their arrival. The first time he had seen Loretta, he had noticed a thick silver chain round her neck. The chain disappeared under her sweater, but, of course, Dean had seen no cause for suspicion then. Lots of people wore jewelry like that, when they were wearing it more for sentimental reasons than for show.

“She’s not carrying it, she’s wearing it,” he said. “Round her neck.”

Sam moved to stand beside Dean.

“Well, it’s going to be difficult to pry it off her without a weapon. So let’s head back to the car.”

Dean shook his head.

“No, let’s head back to our room first.”

Sam frowned.

“I doubt she left anything in our room, Dean.”

However, the room had been warded. Maybe Loretta had had a hard time getting inside.

xxxxXXXxxxxx

The room was a mess. The covers were overturned. Sam’s laptop lay face down on the floor. Sam’s face fell at the sight until he realized that, while it had been pretty banged up, it was still working.

“All my research was here, though,” he said. “Everything I had dug on the Pied Piper and Loretta. She must have seen it.”

Dean was scowling. He noticed the broken salt lines. Every protection ward they had drawn had been tampered with or erased.

“I was really hoping she wouldn’t be able to get inside a warded room.”

“And maybe she can’t as the Pied Piper,” Sam agreed. “But as Loretta she’s flesh and blood. She can come in during the day. She probably did all this in the morning after feeding on us.”

Dean did not want to spend more time in the room. He was getting nervous about the car, afraid that Loretta might have tampered with that, too. Luckily, they had parked in a less noticeable spot in the back. And, apparently, Loretta had been too busy to get at it.

“Ah, baby,” Dean said patting the hood. “You have no idea how good it is to see you in one piece.”

Sam snorted in amusement. In truth, he was just as relieved as Dean, though.

It was time they touched based with Bobby. They had missed checking in, and by now Bobby was probably frantic. When Sam dialed his number, he was not surprised when the first thing Bobby was to start chewing them out.

“ _Haven’t you idjits heard of returning calls?”_

Dean and Sam exchanged amused grins.

“Oh, Bobby, you were worried about us,” Dean said. “We’re touched.”

Bobby snorted.

“ _Don’t flatter yourself, Dean. I knew if you got into trouble, I’d be the one pulling you out of it, and I really don’t feel like driving all the way to the middle of nowhere just now…You’re not in any trouble, are you?”_

“Nothing we can’t handle, Bobby, really,” Sam assured him quickly. “But, listen, we have hit a bit of a snag.”

Bobby’s resigned sigh actually made Sam feel a little guilty. Were he and Dean really that prone to getting into trouble?

_“Of course you did,”_ Bobby said. “ _What is it this time?”_

Sam and Dean brought Bobby up to speed about their time with Loretta and the discovery that she might have made a deal with the original Pied Piper.

“ _Well, that makes sense,”_ Bobby said. “ _There hasn’t been an attack that could be traced to the Pied Piper since about the time the town of Rattigan was established. If one of the original settlers decided to bind him and keep him bound, that would have been a way to stop him for good. Even if someone else found the flute and decided to take on the mantle, they wouldn’t have done as much damage as the original.”_

“I don’t know, Bobby,” Dean said. “Loretta sure seems like she’s capable of doing quite a lot of damage on her own.”

_“Yes, but Loretta takes one kid a night. She can’t work her mojo on more, and the only kids she can compel to follow her are the ones who want to run away from home in the first place. The Pied Piper took about one hundred kids at the same time. Trust me son, he gets loose, no child will be safe.”_

“But burning the pipe will stop both him and Loretta?” Sam asked hopefully.

Bobby was silent for a second.

“ _I’d burn that altar too, just to be sure. Along with everything you found in the summerhouse – the books, the bones, the empty coffins.”_

“Gladly,” Dean said, his eyes hard.

They finished the conversation and were planning to lay low until night came when they could confront Loretta. They were just thinking of finding a place to do just that when they spotted Doctor Blackstone striding towards them. His face was pale.

“Agents,” he greeted harshly. “It’s good to find you here. I supposed you heard?”

“Heard what?” Dean asked.

Blackstone scowled.

“They snatched another kid. In broad daylight, this time. Right outside the school. Where the hell were you two, anyway?”

Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances. That explained Loretta’s absence. What they could not explain was her sudden change in MO.

“Who did they take?” Sam wanted to know.

“Lara Schmidt,” Blackstone answered. “She was Kelsey’s best friend.”

Dean gasped.

“I talked to her. I was sure she was no longer in the victim pool.”

Sam glanced at his brother worriedly.

xxxXXXxxxxx

Dean kept clenching his jaw all the way to Lara’s place. Sam had first thought it was wiser to let him be. But he could not stand by watching his brother drowning in guilt like that. There had been plenty of guilt for Dean since he arrived in Rattigan, and Sam was pretty sure there shouldn’t have been. Nothing that had happened to Sam in the past – or that was happening now to the other children – was in any way Dean’s fault.

“Look, Dean,” he began. “What happened between you and that kid?”

Dean’s hands tightened on the wheel.

“She wanted to run away, too,” he replied tersely. “Jim Hayes was being a dick to her, telling her once her sibling’s born, she’d be tossed aside by her parents or whatever. I tried to make her see things differently.” He paused and shook his head. “I thought I had her convinced, too.”

“You must have,” Sam assured him. “I mean, Loretta did not draw her away. She literally kidnapped her. That means Lara didn’t want to leave.”

“For all the good it did,” Dean muttered. “She’s not safe, Sam. The Pied Piper can still feed on her fears. She’s a kid. It’s easy to convince kids their insecurities are real.”

Sam looked away, suddenly fascinated by the scenery outside.

“I know,” he confirmed quietly.

He sensed Dean’s eyes on him but was in no mood to elaborate. They had said all that needed to be said about Sam’s childhood insecurities that had been dredged up by this case. He cleared his throat and tried to change the subject.

“Loretta can’t feed on her while she’s not the Pied Piper, so Lara’s safe until nightfall. We’ll get her then. As soon as we talk to the family and confirm this really was Loretta and not some creep taking advantage of the other kidnappings, we’ll go to the summer house and get Lara.”

“If she’s in the summer house,” Dean said. “If Loretta knows we’ve escaped, then she also knows that place is compromised. She’ll keep her hidden somewhere else –until nightfall. I think Loretta has big plans.”

“Wait, wat do you mean?” Sam asked

“She wants to set the Pied Piper loose, so she can be free herself,” Dean answered. “But she needs insurance, right? She needs something that will guarantee she won’t be his next meal. Or that she won’t go down with the rest of Rattigan.”

“And that’s Lara?” Sam asked. “I mean, of all the troubled kids Loretta had the chance to kidnap, why her? Lara’s fears are normal kid fears. She’s not traumatized by anything, she’s far more mentally grounded than the rest of Loretta’s victims.”

He stopped when he noticed something in Dean’s eyes.

“Lara is…not the gift he intends to give him,” Sam said softly.

He saw Dean square his shoulders.

“No, Sammy,” he agreed. “No, Lara’s just bait. We’re the ones she really wants.”

It made sense. Loretta had experienced a taste of what was in their minds – the dark stuff, the memories that could cause a lifetime of nightmares. And that was just the start. There was also what was behind Sam’s Wall. If the Pied Piper fed on the fear caused by bad memories – how much energy would he get out of someone who had spent almost two centuries in Hell?


	11. Chapter 11

_When she embraces your heart turns to stone_

_She comes at night when you are all alone_

_And when she whispers your blood shall run cold_

_You better hide before she finds you_

_Within Temptation – Ice Queen_

Lara’s family lived in an apartment above the local pharmacy, which was now closed. Only Lara’s grandmother was there. The mother had gone into labor earlier that day and had been rushed to the clinic. The husband had joined her.

“She doesn’t know, you know,” Millie, the grandmother told the two, as she was setting up tea for them – she had insisted on making some, claiming she needed something to do before she lost her mind. “My son knows,” she added. “But she hasn’t been told yet. I mean, what are we supposed to say? The day you bring one child into the world is also the day you lose another?”

“That’s not going to happen, Mrs. Schmidt,” Sam insisted firmly. “We have every intention of fining Lara and bringing her safe and sound to her family”

“How did it happen, anyway?” Dean asked. “Do you know?”

Millie sighed. The hand that held the teacup was shaking.

“I was going to pick her up early, you know,” she said. “Take her to the hospital as soon as the baby was born. You know, she was actually starting to be excited? Before that, we were afraid she might feel left out, most kids are when they’re about to get a new sibling. But she said someone told her it was going to be “awesome”.”

Sam’s lips quirked upwards. It was easy to figure out who had told her that. He felt amused in spite of the situation when Dean cleared his throat, doing his best to avoid eye contact with him.

“So, when you went to get Lara from school, she wasn’t there?”

Millie placed the cup abruptly on the table. It nearly toppled over and Sam reached out a hand to steady it.

“When I arrived at the school Lara’s teacher was in a frenzy,” Millie said shuddering at the memory. “And she had already called the sheriff. Apparently it had happened about fifteen minutes before I got there. Lara was playing outside during break time. The kids said someone grabbed her. This…figure, they said, with an old-fashioned cloak. Well, some said it was old-fashioned. Others said it looked like a circus thing. Oh, and there was the strangest thing. One of the kids said before grabbing Lara, that person was playing some kind of instrument. Like a flute or something.”

Sam and Dean exchanged meaningful glances. Loretta was indeed getting desperate. She must have known she could not use her Pied Piper mojo during daytime.

“Mrs. Schmidt, you’ve been a great help,” Sam told her. “We will get your granddaughter back.”

“One more thing,” Dean said. “How well do you know Loretta Bracegirdle?”

Millie’s face fell.

“You…haven’t heard then,” she concluded. “We…well, I’m not from Rattigan, you know? I moved here with my husband years ago. My husband had a cousin here, and they were always having these big schemes. They seemed to think they could turn Rattigan into this tourist paradise if they altered it a bit. But for that they needed to buy the hotel. When we moved, my husband said he would start working on the Bracegirdles right away.” Millie swallowed harshly. “I didn’t know then that he meant “working on the Bracegirdles’ daughters””.

Dean frowned.

“What, both of them?”

Millie scoffed.

“They didn’t know. Loretta thought she was the one, her sister thought the same. And I thought I had a decent husband. Till I was proven wrong. Loretta took it the hardest, you know. Her sister moved to college almost immediately, but Loretta stayed. For a long time, she could not forgive either me or her sister, although, in truth, the only one to blame was the bastard that thought it was all right to cheat on his wife with two girls old enough to be his daughters. I divorced him, of course. He remained in Rattigan, though. Then, a few years later he had his accident. Fell of a ladder one evening. Loretta reached out to me then.”

“And – her sister?” Dean asked.

Mille shook her head, sadly.

“That was tragic, really. She had been away for a long time, had made a life for herself – husband, children, the like. Then she came back to Rattigan for her parents’ funeral – they had died in a car crash, see. And I think she and Loretta made up then. But, of course, she died the day after the funeral. An animal attack, they said, although what she was doing in the woods was beyond me.”

When Sam and Dean got back to the car they finally had all the pieces to Loretta’s story.

“That’s what I call some serious soap-opera crap,” Dean commented, then added quickly, noticing Sam’s arched eyebrow. “Not that I know what soap opera crap looks like.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Of course you don’t,” he deadpanned. “Because _Dr. Sexy_ is quality television.”

“Shut up,” Dean told him good naturedly, secretly pleased when he heard Sam snicker.

“So, Lara wasn’t just a random victim,” Sam concluded, growing serious again. “This is Loretta’s final act of revenge.”

“Right,” Dean grumbled. “Because a kid who wasn’t even born when Loretta was wronged is really to blame instead of the cheating douchebag who actually betrayed Loretta. I mean, killing him I get. The rest of it is just spite.”

“People are capable of spite, you know,” Sam said. “And Loretta was grief-stricken, got herself in a deal she could not understand. I can relate to that.”

Dean scowled. He never liked it when Sam looked at the lives of scumbags like Loretta and tried to see parallels with his own. It reminded Dean that he still had a lot to work on if he wanted to rebuild Sam’s self-esteem.

“Let’s just stow the sympathy for the devil crap for a bit. Tell me one thing – what does Loretta actually do when she feeds? I mean, does she feed on the bad memories, or the fears or what? Because I know she dug through my head a lot and I remember all of it.”

He did not look at Sam sensing his concerned glance. There was no way Dean wanted to talk about Loretta riffling through his greatest hits.

“Loretta does not take away your memories, Dean,” Sam said at length. “I think she just forces you to relive them so she can feast on the emotions they bring. After all, she focused on Kelsey’s fears and on Jim Hayes’ too. And the first time she took me, she showed me the future, not the past.”

Dean’s jaw clenched at the reminder.

“That’s what I’m trying to get to, though. Kelsey remembered what had happened to her. So did Jim Hayes. You forgot. Why?”

Sam shrugged.

“If you’re looking for a supernatural explanation, you won’t find one. I was sick. Huge part of what happened must have been burned by the fever. The rest of it – I sensed it was bad. Dad hinted it was safer not to poke. I thought it was smarter not to remember.”

Dean raised his eyebrows.

“You must be the only person I know who actually grew _out_ of their sense of self-preservation, what with your recent wall-scratching. You were way smarter when you were a kid. Hey, actually, you used to do what you were told, too.”

“Only when it came to you,” Sam pointed out. “That was one of the few times I actually decided to listen to Dad. I think I only did that because he promised we’d be picking you up as soon as I got better.”

xxxXXXxxxxx

_Sam opened his eyes trying to blink away the fog in his mind. He did not recognize where he was and could not remember how he had got there. All he knew was that he was alone in a small, impersonal room. Taking in the hard bed, the medical equipment beeping beside him, and how crappy he was feeling, he supposed he was in some kind of hospital. Or maybe a clinic, since it was too quiet to actually be a full-fledged hospital._

_He frowned at the rays of sunlight on the floor. It was daylight then. He was sure the last time he had remembered everything clearly it had been evening. Or night. Had it been night?_

_The most disconcerting thought, though, was that he was alone. Sam had woken up in the hospital plenty of times before, but Dean had always been there, except for the times when he had been hurt himself. Sam felt himself grow cold. Had Dean been hurt? But no, he remembered now. Dean wasn’t there at all. He was lost, right? Dad and Bobby had said so. Even to Sam’s addled state, that did not make sense. If Dean was lost, why hadn’t they been looking for him?_

_The door to the room opened and John walked in carrying a cup of steaming coffee. His eyes widened when he saw Sam was awake. Shaking his head, he made his way to the bed._

_“I was sure you’d still be asleep when I came back,” he grumbled. “I wouldn’t have left, otherwise. You always have to be contrary, Sam.”_

_John’s tone was light and he was smiling slightly, but Sam thought he could detect a trace of concern in his father’s voice._

_“Why am I here?” Sam asked, slightly alarmed that his throat sounded – and felt – like he had swallowed several fistfuls of broken glass._

_John winced in sympathy._

_“Yeah, I wouldn’t do much talking. You’re throat’s going to be hella sore for a couple of days.”_

_Sam frowned, trying to piece together the puzzle of what had happened to him._

_“Was I sick?” he asked._

_John hesitated. He sat down in his chair, drawing it closer to Sam’s bed._

_“You don’t remember?”_

_If Sam had been feeling better he would have given a snarky reply, since he would not have bothered asking questions if he had remembered anything. But he was sore and confused and his Dad was looking at him as if he could not believe Sam was there, or that he was still Sam, and in their line of work, that was something to worry about._

_“What’s the last thing you remember?”John pressed on._

_Sam tried to think. There were disjointed images in his mind – a forest, rats, fire. But they felt more like nightmare images, fading away as soon as Sam tried to focus on them._

_“We were fighting,” Sam said, because that was something he was sure of. “At the hotel. I’m sorry.”_

_John huffed, partly in surprise, because Sam rarely apologized unless he was told to do so, partly because he clearly no longer considered the fight important._

_“Don’t worry,” he said. “This time…this time you might have been right. I shouldn’t have gone out that evening.”_

_Sam gaped at his father, since John was even less willing to offer apologies, and definitely not to his kids._

_“That evening?” he repeated. “You mean last night, right?”_

_Sam watched as John clenched his jaw, his eyes suddenly misty._

_“No,” John said clearing his throat. “No, Sammy, that was…that was six nights ago. You’ve been…you’ve been ill for a few days. That’s why you’re in the clinic.”_

_Sam searched his father’s face, the worry and regret now easy to spot. For some reason, John blamed himself for whatever had happened to Sam._

_“I don’t remember anything after the fight,” Sam said apologetically._

_He was baffled when his Dad – who usually advocated gaining as much information about something as possible, however unpleasant – actually looked relieved at Sam’s ignorance._

_“Well, Sammy, I don’t think you want to remember, really,” he said attempting a smile._

_Sam tried to protest. He did not like the idea of not remembering. Loss of memories meant loss of control and, even at twelve, that was something unacceptable to Sam. But there was something in his father’s face that he had never seen before, and Sam had to wonder if John was grieving for him, or for something else._

_“Where’s Dean, Dad?” he asked softly.”Is Dean all right?”_

_Something was different in John, and Sam could tell. Whether he was still terrified about almost losing Sam that he was more ready to give in to Sam’s demands – or he had simply realized Sam could go off the rails when he did not know where his brother was – he did not dismiss the question this time. He reached out and patted Sam’s shoulder._

_“Dean’s fine, Sam. Actually, tell you what? You rest up and get better, and as soon as the Doc clears you, we’ll go get him. How’s that sound?”_

_That sounded awesome. That made lying in that boring room with nothing to do but sleep so much better. Sam was growing sleepy again. He glanced at his father who was sitting in the chair, his attention on some magazine he was reading. It felt oddly comforting. Sam closed his eyes and thought of Dean, and how they would be getting Dean back soon._

_As he was falling asleep, a small voice whispered in his ear: What if Dean doesn’t want to get back to you? Sam had no idea where the stray thought had come from. But it followed him in his sleep and was still there in his mind a week later, when they met up with Dean._

***

Sam and Dean had searched for Loretta everywhere they could think of, knowing it would be easier for them if they caught her before the sun set and managed to get Lara safely out of the way before their inevitable showdown with both Loretta and the original Pied Piper.

However, they had come up empty. Even talking to others did not help much. It turned out one could still keep secrets in a small town. The people of Rattigan were suddenly discovering how little they knew about the owner of their local hotel.

Sundown found them back at the summer house. There was still no sign of Loretta. From what Sam and Dean could tell, she had not been there with Lara.

They gathered everything in the room with the coffins and set them in a pile to be salted and burned. Sam was slightly sorry they had to burn the bodies, too. He would have liked to give the children’s families something to burry. But that could have come with its own problems, such as more restless spirits in the future, once the dead children were no longer tied to Loretta and the Pied Piper. Like this, Agent Page would be making several calls in the next few days to announce grieving families that their missing charges’ bodies had been found and identified, but that, unfortunately, a fire in a small town morgue had destroyed them. At least the families would know for sure then.

He did not say any of this to Dean. He could tell his brother was battling demons of his own. There was a strange, unreadable look as they set fire to the coffin Loretta had prepared for Sam all those years back. A mixture of relief and guilt that broke Sam’s heart. He wanted to reach out to Dean again, to remind him that it had not happened. But there would be no point in doing that. Dean would forever be haunted by the what ifs. He would forever be imagining how he would have felt if that terrible outcome had indeed come to pass.

It was fully dark when they were done. They had no idea if burning all that stuff was going to have any effect on Loretta – Bobby seemed to think that burning the pipe was the clincher – but, at least, they would keep it out of anyone else’s hands.

“I wish I could burn the whole place to the ground,” Dean said glaring at the house, as if it, and not Loretta, had been responsible for Sam’s distress years ago.

“I know,” Sam admitted, because he, too, felt the visceral need to see the place utterly obliterated. “It would draw too much attention, though. We can’t have that until we end Loretta.”

A shrill, piercing scream had him stopping mid-sentence. He was running towards it, Dean at his side, even before they had a chance to process what was happening. They were not really surprised that the scream had been heard from the direction of the clearing with the altar.

The scream sounded again, shrill and desperate. It sounded like a child’s voice, one that was scared out of their mind. They ran even faster, guns at the ready.

They reached the clearing. Loretta stood there next to the altar, holding a knife to Lara’s throat. Vines surrounded the both of them and a shadow seemed to float above the altar. Loretta did not look surprised to see them.

“Hello, boys,” she greeted. “Glad you could join us. I was beginning to worry you would miss our little party.”

Sam glanced at Dean. They had both drawn their guns, but they could not shoot. Not while Loretta was holding Lara like that. They did not want to risk hitting her.

“Why don’t you get away from her?” Dean said. “You’ve had your fun, we’re here. That’s what you wanted, right? She was just bait for us. Now let her go.”

Loretta tightened her hold on Lara. The girl was looking at them through tear-stained eyes.

“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid,” Loretta said. “See, I need a final act of revenge. After all, I did not take just any child, did I?”

“We know about Lara’s grandfather,” Sam said. “We know what he did to you. How he betrayed you. But it’s not Lara’s fault. She wasn’t even born then.”

Loretta snorted.

“Her father was, though, wasn’t he? He was the son of the guy who had told me he loved me and was ready to give me a family. And then, when I found out he had a real family, he said the reason why we couldn’t be together was because he couldn’t leave his kid.”

“He was lying,” Dean pointed out “He was a scumbag who betrayed both you and your sister – and his own family. Whatever beef you had with him, you can’t take it out on his granddaughter.”

Something flickered in Loretta’s face, a trace of hesitation, as if she was not really sure what she was doing. The hand that held the knife was trembling.

“Just let Lara go, Loretta,” Sam urged softly. “Please, let her go, and let her get safely back to her family. We can talk after that.”

Loretta’s eyes narrowed. She tightened her hold on Lara.

“Talk?” she repeated. “You’re not gonna talk. As soon as I let her go, you’re gonna shoot me.”

Sam glanced at Dean. By the look on his brother’s face, that was exactly what Dean intended to do. For him, it had become personal the moment he had discovered Loretta’s connection to Sam. But Sam hoped Loretta could not see that as well as he could.

“We don’t have to shoot you if you don’t give us reason to,” he insisted. “Let her go, give us the pipe and then…well, we’ll take it from there.”

Loretta moved closer to the altar, dragging Lara with her. Sam tightened his hold on the gun, searching for a way to get to Loretta without hurting the girl.

“Oh, you want the pipe, do you? What do you intend to do with it? Get rid of it?”

“You know it’s for the best,” Sam argued.

Loretta shook her head.

“Here’s where you’re wrong, Sam. It’s not. Long ago the Pied Piper taught smug entitled people a lesson they forgot. That story about the children of Hamelin, it’s a warning against screwing with decent folks just because you can. When the Pied Piper came to Hamelin, he had every intention of helping the people with their rat problem and then moving on – after he was paid. Only the townsfolk refused to pay. Was he supposed to simply walk away? Or wasn’t it better that he showed them exactly what happened to those who did not hold their end of the bargain?”

“That was then,” Dean pointed out, taking a step forward. “Things have changed since then. Laws have changed. It’s not that easy to mess with people now as it was then.”

Loretta gave him a knowing look.

“Isn’t it? You mean, you didn’t pay your stay with a fake credit card? See – even you screw with honest folk on a daily basis. But it’s not that. The world is just as full of entitled people who need to be taught a lesson as it was then. So, I say, let’s bring the perfect teacher. With the Pied Piper roaming the world – the _r_ _eal Pied Piper_ , mind you, and he’s ten times more powerful than me – people are going to start thinking twice before they turn into betrayers.”

Dean shook his head.

“Lady, I’ve got to hand it to you, you’ve got some twisted sense of right and wrong.”

Loretta said nothing. She glanced up at the shadow that hovered over the altar. Following her gaze, Sam noticed that it was becoming more solid, gaining power as they stood there trying to negotiate with Loretta.

“Dean,” he warned.

He understood now why Loretta had followed their lead and answered their questions instead of simply killing Lara or trying to attack them. She had been biding her time, while the Pied Piper was growing stronger. Loretta met his eyes and smirked.

“Oh, indeed,” she confirmed. “He’s nearly here. See, I had enough from Kelsey and from the two of you. Even without your memories of Hell, Sam, what you two have is enough to feed the Pied Piper and keep him strong for a long, long time. And that’s what is going to happen to you. You’ll be his food source in lean times. Whenever he’s going to need a boost, he’ll come to you. That’s how I ensured I wouldn’t go down with Rattigan. I needed to deliver you.”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” Dean said.

He pulled the trigger. Not towards Loretta, but towards the altar behind her. Sam had anticipated his move – it paid to know someone so well you could have entire conversations with just one look. As soon as Dean fired the gun, Loretta flinched, her hold on Lara slackening. Sam dove towards Lara at the same time that Dean moved towards Loretta.

Then Sam was pulling Lara away, while Loretta and Dean were engaged in a struggle for Dean’s gun. Rats were scuttling around the altar, suddenly confused and directionless, while the shadow of the Pied Piper grew stronger. Lara was screaming and crying, clutching at Sam.

“Cover your ears,” Sam urged her, hands tightening on his gun. “It’s going to get loud.”

He could not shoot at Loretta, she was too close to Dean. Instead, he aimed towards the Pied Piper. He fired. Nothing happened, though. The thing did not even stagger, as if bullets could not hurt it. And then Sam realized in horror it was not a shadow anymore. Whatever Loretta had been planning to do had been accomplished. The Pied Piper was free.

“Dean!” he cried, because the thing was heading towards his brother and towards Loretta, and since Lara was still clinging to Sam, he could not simply dive in and rescue Dean without endangering her.

The loud bang of a gun nearly had his heart stopping. For a moment, he did not know if Dean had shot Loretta or the other way round. There was a flash of light from the crack headstone that momentarily blinded Sam. When it cleared, Lara was still whimpering softly beside him. Several feel away, Loretta was lying on the ground, staring sightlessly at the sky. She was dead. Dean was lying next to her, unmoving. And the Pied Piper was bending over him, completely solid now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Thanks for reading :)

It did not take long for Sam to realize their situation was bad and that he had to do something quick. He glanced at Lara. She needed to be out of there. But he definitely could not abandon Dean to the Pied Piper.

“Get out of here,” he told Lara. “Go straight ahead until you find a tree with a hollow in it. Hide there and wait for us.”

He shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her.

“Take this. It’ll keep you warm. Now go!”

Lara hesitated, looking from Dean to Sam. It was clear Sam had no intention of going anywhere without Dean.

“You’re his little brother,” she discovered. “He told me you’re always there for him.”

Sam’s mouth twisted in a grim smile.

“I try to be. Get out of here, Lara! Go!”

She ran then and Sam released a breath he did not know he had been holding. With Lara out of the way, he could afford to be reckless. Dean would have killed him, if he had known what was in Sam’s mind. But Dean wasn’t even conscious, so what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. At least, that was what Sam hoped.

The Pied Piper was bending over Dean, who had yet to move. But the Pied Piper was probably prying through Dean’s memories, feeding on all the bad stuff in Dean’s head, and, as messed up as it sounded, that was good news to Sam. It meant Dean was still alive.

“Hey!” Sam cried. “It’s me you want! I’ve got way better stuff in my head than he does.”

He did not think of that stuff, though. Instead, he urged himself to think of all the good times he and Dean had shared. He pictured all their car rides, their games, and their pranks, all the things that always reminded Sam of how much he was loved, even when he had thought he did not deserve it. He remembered the hug he and Dean had shared after he had woken up from his recent resoulling, and tried to capture that feeling of utter relief and safety.

If the reactions from bad memories fed the Pied Piper, then feelings caused by good memories might damage him. Or, at least, they might offer protection to anyone trying to challenge him. At least, Sam hoped his theory was correct. But, since Dean’s life was at stake, there was no time to reflect more on what he was doing. He simply followed his instinct.

The Pied Piper moved slightly away from Dean. He was looking straight at Sam, even though Sam could not see his face clearly. Sam waved.

“He’s got forty years in Hell,” he said, pointing to Dean. “I’ve got about two hundred. How about you come here and sample _me_?”

“ _Oh yeah,_ ” he thought. “ _If I survive, Dean’s going to kill me. Slow and painful, just like he likes it._ ” But at least it would mean Dean was alive to do so. Honestly, Sam did not care much beyond that.

He braced himself when the Pied Piper rushed towards him. He aimed his gun and fired, hitting the thing point blank in the chest. It staggered, and, for a moment, Sam allowed himself to believe it would really be that easy. But, of course, it never was with them.

The Pied Piper was upon him now. With one wave of his arm, he tossed the gun from Sam’s hand. Sam backed off slightly, until his back hit the altar stone.

The Pied Piper’s hands were on Sam’s head now, as Sam struggled to break free. But his opponent was strong, certainly much stronger than Sam would have assumed someone his size would be. Loretta had been feeding him well over the years, though. Sam could not help wondering how much of that strength came from him and Dean.

He could feel the foreign mind prying inside his own, a sense of intrusion that reminded him of all the various possessions he had experienced and nearly sent him in a panic. He fought against the fear, knowing it would become food to the Pied Piper. He tried to think of Dean, of the many times Dean had saved him, even when Sam had been sure he was not worth saving. The Pied Piper’s hold slackened slightly, and Sam’s struggles increased.

The Pied Piper was still trying to attack his mind. He had found the Wall, Sam could feel that, and he was ready to attack it with the strength of a battering ram. Vague memories of pain and fire teased on the edge of Sam’s consciousness. He saw the satisfaction in the Pied Piper’s eyes, and he knew that this time, he could not win.

The crack of a gun close by deafened Sam. The Pied Piper swirled round, but his hold on Sam did not waver.

Dean was kneeling in the grass beside Loretta. The look in his eyes spelled murder.

“Get your hands off my brother,” he snarled.

Sam gasped Dean’s name, relieved and concerned about what was going to happen next. A bright flash in Dean’s hand told him Dean had the pipe. A look at Dean’s pale face, however, warned Sam that, while Dean was keeping himself conscious now through sheer stubbornness, it was not going to last long. Not unless Sam held the Pied Piper distracted.

The Pied Piper’s hold on Sam had slackened, momentarily taken in by what Dean was doing. Sam grabbed at the hands holding his head, intent on pushing them away and turning tables on his enemy. The movement had the Pied Piper’s attention on him again.

Sam braced his legs, trying to trip his enemy. If he could get him on the ground, he would buy Dean time to destroy the pipe. At the same time, he did something he was sure Dean would have never approved of. He tried to recall the moments before he had cast himself into the Cage, trying to remember as much as he could, getting dangerously close to the wall. Dangling that kind of bait in front of the Pied Piper’s nose was sure to keep the thing distracted, his attention on Sam and away from Dean.

He noticed the glint of greed in the Pied Piper’s eyes. Loretta had been feeding him normal stuff, common fears and sorrows that, while they had strengthened him little by little throughout the years, could not compare to what Sam had. This would give the Pied Piper an instant boost, enough energy for him to raze to the ground at least three towns the size of Rattigan and still have some juice to spare.

“That’s right,” Sam repeated. “It’s me you want.”

If they kept this up, Sam was sure the Pied Piper would shatter the Wall in his mind. But at least it would buy Dean enough time. He concentrated on that and told himself that whatever came after would be worth it if it meant Dean getting rid of the Pied Piper – _and_ coming out of the confrontation alive and relatively unscathed.

A flash of fire in the corner of his eyes had Sam freezing, ceasing his struggle and becoming almost limp in the Pied Piper’s grasp. Was this it? Had the Wall been shattered and was he about to see what had happened during his time in the Cage? But no, the fire did not come from his memory. It was real. Dean had set fire to the pipe.

The Pied Piper let go of Sam, who stumbled to his knees. He saw the Pied Piper stagger, lurching towards Dean – or maybe trying to get to the pipe and prevent it from being destroyed, but the only thing Sam could focus on was that the thing appeared to be making a threatening move towards his brother. His gun lay close to him in the grass. Sam reached out to it and fired. The Pied Piper stumbled and wailed in pain. If the bullets had no effect before, now with the pipe burning, the creature was becoming vulnerable.

The pipe was turning into ash before their eyes. Flames engulfed the Pied Piper now. All around them rats were scuttling in a panic, some collapsing unmoving, others bursting into flame.

The Pied Piper vanished in a cloud of smoke. There was no sign of him or his rats. Only Loretta’s body and the pile of ash where the pipe had been were there to prove that the night’s adventures had been real.

Panting, with his memories from Hell so dangerously close to creeping through cracks in his Wall, Sam raised his head searching for Dean. His brother was kneeling close to the burnt pipe, looking pale and exhausted. Sam wondered what the Pied Piper had dredged up from his mind in those moments after Loretta’s death, before Sam had managed to distract him.

Dean looked up and met Sam’s eyes. Sam’s lips twitched in a clumsy attempt at a smile.

“Hey,” he said, his voice surprisingly hoarse.

Dean snorted at Sam’s words. He staggered up and took several steps until he was close to Sam. There, he knelt down beside his brother – or maybe he had allowed himself to fall down, from what Sam could see, Dean had not look too steady on his feet.

“You ok?” Sam tried, cringing at the absurdness of his question.

In answer, Dean lay his hand heavily on Sam’s shoulder. They stood like this for a long time, drawing strength from each other. They knew they would soon have to pick themselves up and find Lara and take her home. Still, they allowed themselves a few more minutes to indulge in a world where it was only the two of them. That was the safest they felt sometimes.

xxxxXXXxxxxxxx

Sam and Dean delivered Lara safely home. Then they drove out of Rattigan before the grateful inhabitants figured out they had killed the owner of their hotel. Not that anyone would morn Loretta much. While the Winchesters had destroyed all traces of the Pied Piper, they had left enough evidence to tie Loretta to the disappearances. At least the families would have some answers then.

They drove until they were a couple of towns away, then stopped at a nearly empty motel to rest and regroup. Afterwards, they decided to head back to Bobby’s.

Bobby was glad to see them. He listened to their account of the hunt and said he would make some notes in his journal. He then informed Sam he’d had some ancient lore books delivered to him from an antiques dealer lady friend who happened to know a little bit about Bobby’s business. Would he be interested to check them out?

Dean watched as Sam drooled over a pile of ancient, moldy manuscripts. His brother looked in a world of his own. He would remain at Bobby’s table for a long time, his nose buried in the books. Kid could probably read through an apocalypse. Which suited Dean fine. He had one last loose end to tie.

xxxXXXXXxxxxx

Greenberg was whistling as he left the bar. He had been out of the hospital for two days and he was ready to blow town. Especially since he knew there was nothing worth staying for. That nurse who usually worked night shifts had been all kinds of hot – until she had slapped him and called him a pig when Greenberg had suggested he would benefit from some different kind of healing. Greenberg shook his head. Her loss, really.

He had his truck door open when he stiffened at the unmistakable sound of someone sneaking up behind him. His hand went to where he hid his gun, but it was already too late. He felt an explosion of pain in the back of his head, and his world went dark.

A splash of cold water on his face brought Greenberg back to his senses. He blinked up at the young man who was pointing a gun at him. The look in his eyes spelled murder.

“What the hell?” Greenberg muttered. “Who the hell are you?”

He realized he was in his truck. The highway was close by, judging from the sound of passing cars, but not near enough for anyone to notice someone being held at gun-point. Greenberg made to sit up, but his attacker pushed the gun towards him.

“One wrong move and I’ll take it as a reason to shoot,” the man said. ‘And trust me,” he said with a wild, almost feral grin. “I’m dying for you to give me a reason right now.”

Greenberg raised his hands carefully to show that he had understood. He had seen many dangerous things in his life and knew that he did not want to mess with the man before him.

“Look,” he began reasonably. “If you’re here because I did something to your girl – whoever she is – trust me, if I did something to her, she was more than willing, so the problem isn’t me here, pal, it’s you.”

The man laughed, shaking his head.

“This isn’t about you doing something to a girl.” All traces of amusement vanished and his eyes turned hard as flint. “It’s about you doing something to my brother.”

For a moment, Greenberg was confused. Had the guy’s brother been a monster Greenberg had killed? A guy he had roughed up in one of his many bar fights? A victim he had abandoned in favor of finishing a hunt? Then, he took a closer look at the stranger. He had never seen him before, but there was something familiar about him, nonetheless. And suddenly he remembered the phone call he had gotten several days back. And he knew exactly who was standing in front of him.

“Let me guess – Dean Winchester? I should have known after getting Singer involved that I’d have you on my ass. After all, you Winchesters don’t know when to quit.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. His hand moved in a flash, punching Greenberg in the face. Greenberg’s head snapped and he tasted blood.

“That’s for Sammy. And for all the other kids.”

Greenberg frowned in confusion. He shook his head to clear the fog caused by the unexpected blow.

“What the hell are you talking about, man? I’m the one who saved your brother back then…”

Dean grabbed him by the collar, his face dangerously close to Greenberg’s.

“You’re the one who _used_ my brother. You sent my Dad on a wild goose chase and handed a vulnerable twelve year old to a monster! Then you lost him.”

“Look, man, we were not making any headway with the boogeyman. Kids were dying…”

He was cut off when Dean shook him.

“My brother nearly died. What, was he in any way worth less to you than other kids? What did he do to make him expendable?”

_Don’t you know?_ Greenberg wanted to say. _Hello? Apocalypse? Demon blood? Those ring any bells to you?_ Still, Greenberg had enough sense of self-preservation left to keep such opinions to himself.

“I didn’t mean to lose him that night,” he said, and that, at least, was the truth. “And I took him straight to Doctor Blackstone as soon as I found him.”

“And then?” Dean prompted.

Greenberg snorted.

“What do you think? Then I took off. Your Dad made it clear – as soon as Sam was found, he’d put a bullet in me. What, do you think I was gonna stick around for that?”

Dean’s hands clenched on the gun. For a moment, Greenberg was afraid he had escaped the father only to be capped by the brother years later. Then, Dean drew slightly back.

“I’m just trying to figure out what was in your head,” he said. “How you thought you could use Sam like that and think nothing was going to happen to you afterwards.”

Greenberg scoffed.

“Trust me, I got that from your Dad. You hit as hard as him, by the way.”

Dean’s smile turned wild.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Greenberg hesitated.

“So, what now? Are you going to beat me up just because I lost your brother all those years back? You know, Hunters were talking about him even then. I was going to warn John after the Hunt. There were rumors about Sammy and none of them were good. And that night, when I found him, he said some things – if I had known back then what I know now…”

He stopped before he could finish his thought. The look in Dean’s eyes told him clearly that, if he said that out loud, it would be the last thing he did.

Dean had guessed enough, though. His eyes narrowed. In a flash, he pushed Greenberg against the dashboard.

“Now, you listen to me,” he hissed. “My brother’s the reason why the world is still here. He’s the reason you get to drive around in this piece of crap truck of yours, antagonizing everyone in sight. You remember that, because you damn well don’t deserve it. Sam’s also the reason why I won’t empty my clip in you on principle alone, and trust me, I’m trying very hard not to do so. But Sam wouldn’t want that. So you get to walk away with a warning.”

“Oh yeah?” Greenberg snarled. “What kind of warning?”

“You stay away from us. And you especially stay away from Sam. I’m warning you, Greenberg, you even think about my brother wrong and I’ll know. And I’ll come and get you from whatever hole you crawled under. And then – then I’ll finish the job.”

Greenberg realized Dean meant every word. He would have to be careful what he said and who he said it to from then on.

“One more thing,” Dean said. “Sam tried to warn you about what had taken him. You dismissed him. You wouldn’t listen to him. So all the kids the Pied Piper took all those years – all their deaths are on you.”

Greenberg could not help bristling at that.

“Now, wait just a minute…”

Dean’s fist slammed against his head put a stop to his indignant spluttering.

When Greenberg woke up again there was no sign of Dean. He sat up groaning and took some time to get his bearings. Then, he was speeding away from Sioux Falls. He hoped never to meet the Winchesters again.

xxxXXXxxxxx

Sam was waiting for Dean when he returned, even though it was quite late. Dean waved the bag of snacks he had gotten from a gas station, as if to pretend that had been his only reason for going out. As if Sam had not figured things out already.

“Did you kill him?” he asked, without further introductions.

It was amusing how Dean’s eyes widened and he tried to gain his footing. Taking his big brother aback had always been one of Sam’s secret pleasures.

“Greenberg,” Sam added. “I know that’s why you went out.”

Dean frowned.

“Bobby tell you that?”

“He did not have to,” Sam replied. “I know you, man.”

“Then you also know I didn’t kill him. Just set him straight about some things.”

Sam felt himself smiling against his will. How many times throughout their childhood had Dean not used the same words to talk about some schoolyard bully who just had to be “set straight” about Sam?

“Dean,” he said, suddenly needing to say it. “Thanks.”

Dean eyed him suspiciously.

“What, for Greenberg? I didn’t think you’d agree.”

Sam shook his head.

“Not for Greenberg. Well, not only for Greenberg. For…well, for e _verything_ , Dean,” he felt Dean hesitating, and knew his brother was becoming uncomfortable with the conversation. But the Pied Piper had bought back so many memories, Sam was sure he would not be able to find peace unless he told Dean something of how he felt. “For some reason I sometimes can’t understand, you were always there.”

Dean scowled.

“I think it just became clear I wasn’t. You nearly died while I was at Sonny’s.”

Dean turned his back to Sam. He was standing in front of the window, his eyes fixed on Bobby’s scrap yard. Sam went to stand beside him.

“You came back as soon as you could, though. You always came back.”

Dean glanced at Sam.

“So do you, you know,” he pointed out.

Sam did not answer. But that was the truth. He had run away so many times and had come back to Dean just as many. From Stanford, from Ruby, from a mutually agreed upon separation after the start of the Apocalypse. Even from Hell. Castiel had told Sam that soulless him had been watching Dean from outside his house. Sam was sure now that, had his soul been in place, he would not have been able to stop himself from showing himself to Dean then and there. No matter how guilty he would have felt about dragging his brother from his normal afterwards. It was one of the rules of their messed-up lives. They always came back to each other. Because no one else knew them so well.

“Yeah,” he said, his words both an admission about the past and a promise for the future. “I always come back.”

They stood there, shoulder to shoulder until late into the night. They did not say anything else, but Sam would always remember that night as one of the best of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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